


Over the Hills and Far Away

by BerylSpring



Series: Over the Hills Trilogy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anger, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Demons, Dimension Travel, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Dates, Friendship/Love, Guilty Dean Winchester, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, I don't think I'm going to add too many more tags, I hate spoilers!, Inspired by Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, Knight of Hell Abaddon (Supernatural), Mark of Cain (Supernatural), May/December Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam's Delirious, Seriously you'll have to be patient for the smut, Slow Romance, Tags are spoilers aren't they?, Takes place in seasons 8-10, The First Blade (Supernatural), Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Training, Unrequited Love, Witchcraft, spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 137,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25661515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerylSpring/pseuds/BerylSpring
Summary: Jessica Farrow went to bed one night with a single thought on her mind:  “I wish Supernatural were real.”  When she wakes up in a strange place the next morning with nothing but a hundred dollar bill in her back pocket, she has to find out where she is, what happened to her, and find her way home.  While putting the clues together, she realizes that she may have gotten what she wished for after all, but is the world of Supernatural really where she belongs?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Over the Hills Trilogy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860703
Comments: 30
Kudos: 62





	1. “Break on Through (To the Other Side)”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the episode “The French Mistake” and more recently the alternate dimension story line in season 12. I realize that others have written similar fics, however this is my take on what would happen if a fan suddenly found herself in the Winchester’s world. I’ve been working on this for a long time with the intent to finish before posting, but it is becoming novel length, and it’s been such a long time since I’ve posted anything, I figured I’ll upload in batches once I know details aren’t going to change as the story progresses. Please leave feedback along the way. It helps with my process to know what’s working and what’s not. Thanks!

The credits rolled on the latest episode of _Supernatural_ , and Jessica Farrow turned off the television and looked over at her best friend with anticipation. Her friend, Becky, was silent for a moment and half-heartedly pursed her lips and shrugged in approval. This was not the reaction that Jessica was looking for. With a frown, she decided to press her for more of a reaction.

“That’s it? Did you not like it?” she asked, dejected.

“No, no, it was good, I guess,” Becky replied, “the two guys are cute.”

_Well duh,_ Jessica thought. “You have to watch it from the beginning. It’s really good. I’m like, obsessed!”

Becky laughed, “Yeah, I know. You talk about it all the time!”

It was true; Jessica was a huge fan of the show, and it preoccupied most of her thoughts. Some people might think it was sad, that she had no life, but she didn’t care what they thought. She was always interested in great stories, and she was getting hooked on shows and obsessing over them as far back as she could remember. It was what she enjoyed; it was who she was, and she wasn’t going to change that because someone else didn’t approve or understand. _Supernatural_ was an escape. Her life was pretty normal, pretty uneventful, and sometimes downright boring. Watching a great TV show or reading a great book was her way of living a much more exciting life, albeit through the eyes of a fictional character. Sam and Dean Winchester’s lives were exciting, dangerous, and compelling. Being a hunter would beat the hell out of slogging through college finals or sitting at home on the weekends because she was dead broke.

“The story is so good, and Dean Winchester is probably the best character on television right now. He’s so selfless and heroic, funny, totally hot…” Jessica began, trying to play up the show to her friend again.

“Don’t lie, that’s the only reason you like the show.” Becky suggested, “The hot guys!”

“Okay, it certainly doesn’t hurt, but no, seriously…the show is fantastic!”

Becky knew how to press her friend’s buttons, “Actually, though, I think Sam is way hotter!”

A silent, ice cold stare graced Jessica’s face. “You shut your mouth!”

The girls broke out into laughter, and after touting the show’s many other qualities, Jessica finally got Becky to agree to watch it from the beginning and catch up.

“It’s on Netflix,” Jessica offered, “but, don’t watch Season One on that. They replaced all the original classic rock with dumb generic songs! That’s like blasphemous if you ask me! Here, borrow my DVDS for the first season.” She walked to the bookshelf in the far corner of the living room and grabbed them from her ever-growing collection of television box sets. “You break ‘em, you buy ‘em!” she warned as she handed them over.

After talking a bit more about their plans for after finals were over, Becky said goodbye and Jessica locked up her off-campus apartment for the night. She was currently a Junior at the University of Tampa; a school she chose because of its close proximity to the beach and the temperate climate of the Sunshine State. She enjoyed living there for the most part, except she was always too busy with school to have the time or energy to get to the beach that often. It was just as well, though, because when she wasn’t busy writing papers for her English major, she was content watching her favorite TV shows. Getting her degree in English would hopefully lead her to a career as a script writer. Then she could be part of the thing she was most passionate about. Of course, by the time she got there, she would miss out on writing for _Supernatural_ , but hey…a girl could dream!

Turning off the lights in the rest of the apartment, Jessica sat down at her desk in her bedroom and worked for a few hours on her last paper for her Rhetoric class. The topic she was given, Rhetorical Devices in Sports Broadcasting, was of absolutely no interest to her, so she was doing the best she could to get it over with, and still get a decent grade. She could write a whole dissertation on the Rhetoric of _Supernatural,_ but sports? No, it was like slow torture! Before she knew it, it was 1:00 a.m., and she saved her draft and shut down her computer for the night. 

Jessica trudged through her nightly routine, partially because she was so tired and partially because she hated the litany of it all. After brushing her teeth and taking out her contacts, she shut off the bathroom light and followed the fuzzy outline of the furniture in her room to climb into bed. Even though she was blind as a bat without her contacts or glasses, she knew her bedroom like the back of her hand, and had no trouble walking around half-blind. 

Pulling the covers up over her, she lay awake for awhile staring out in to the blurred darkness. She started thinking about the episode she watched earlier that night. It was mostly a filler; Sam and Dean up against Greek Gods Zeus and Artemis. She had to admit, it probably didn’t make much sense to a newbie like Becky. She could understand why Becky’s reaction was a bit underwhelming. It was no “Swan Song” or “The French Mistake”. The latter episode was one of her favorites. She always enjoyed the Meta episodes.

_How cool would it be if there really was another dimension where Sam and Dean were alive and kicking,_ Jessica thought as she let her mind wander? “God, I wish that were true,” she said aloud to herself, “It would be so awesome to live in their world for a bit.” She smiled at the idea, and pictured living in the bunker with the Winchester’s; what she would say to them, what kind of role she would play in their lives. Would she hunt with them? They’d have to train her to fight, but she could help with the research in the beginning. Would she become best friends with Sam, or Dean? Would she become more? She would be crushing so hard on Dean she probably would make an idiot out of herself. Besides, she wasn’t really Dean’s type. Maybe she would like Sam better if she were in their lives. Was she a Sam girl?

Her train of thought continued on this track until her eyelids got that heavy, grainy feeling that comes on when the body shuts itself off for the night. Finally, her mind quieted down, her breathing slowed, and she fell fast asleep.

*****

The grinding of the lifting mechanism and short, sharp beeping of the backup signal on a garbage truck woke Jessica from a deep sleep. Groaning and squeezing her eyes tight to block out the sudden light from the rising sun, she turned over and slid her pillow out from under her head to use it as a shield. It muffled the annoying sound, but it was no use; she was awake now. There would be no getting back to sleep. With a yawn, she stretched, opening her eyes with a look of confusion registering on her face a few seconds later. This wasn’t her room.

Sitting up to look around, she found herself in a dimly lit, rather squalid motel room. The musty stench of moldy wood and stale cigarette ashes filled her nostrils and shocked her out of the bed. The carpet beneath her bare feet felt damp and cold, and the A/C unit under the window was sputtering out nasty recycled, hot air, only adding to the foul atmosphere. Panic began to set in. Where was she? How did she get here? Did she get kidnapped in the middle of the night? Why was she wearing jeans and a tee-shirt instead of the pajamas she put on the night before? Wherever she was, she was alone now, and she wanted to keep it that way. Turning on the bedside lamp with the amber-colored glass shade that looked like it was from the 1970’s, she began frantically searching the room for any clues as to where she was and how she might have gotten there. Everything one would expect to find in a cheap motel room was there, as well as a pair of boots she didn’t recognized by the entryway with worn socks stuffed into them. They were small, women’s shoes, and upon closer inspection, they were her size. The room key lay on the tiny table by the window. In her back jeans pocket was a crumpled up hundred dollar bill and a handful of change, but other than that, she had nothing; no purse, no ID, no cell phone… nothing. 

Pulling the curtains back from the window, she peered out onto a mostly empty parking lot. There were a few cars parked outside some of the other rooms, but no one was around. Directly across the street was a big open field, alongside a two-lane road lined with power lines; the occasional tractor trailer zipped by. Wherever she was, she didn’t recognize her surroundings, and it was quickly becoming apparent that she ought to get the hell out of there. 

Not knowing whose feet had been in the socks that were sticking up out of the boots by the door, Jessica pulled them out with her fingertips and tossed them across the floor. Shoving her bare feet into the boots, she laced them up and pulled the bottoms of her jeans over the tops of them. A sudden urge to use the restroom caused her to pause for a moment, but she figured she would pee real quick and then skedaddle.

The bathroom was covered in grimy brown and orange tiles, keeping in theme with the 70’s feel of the rest of the room, but the toilet looked pretty clean. She put toilet paper down on the seat just in case before relieving her bladder. When she was finished, she washed her hands with the motel soap that was still in the packaging; an off-brand she had never heard of before. That’s when she looked at herself in the mirror and realized something was off. She could see! It hadn’t occurred to her before in the panic of not knowing where she was, but everything should have been a blur without her contacts. She brought her fingers up to her eye and gently plucked as if she were to take out her lenses, but there was nothing laying on them. Then she noticed that her hair, which normally looked like it was blown around in a hurricane in the morning, was perfectly coiffed. The same could be said of the way her face looked perfectly made-up without looking like she tried. What the Hell was going on? With disbelief, she shook her head, and hightailed it out of the motel room and into the chilly morning air.

Wherever the hell she was, it was freezing cold. Briskly rubbing her hands along her bare arms, she looked at her surroundings. The neon motel sign was her first clue; she was at the Golden Rule Motel. It was definitely a mom and pop motel of old. Trying to keep a clear head and push down the uneasiness of her predicament, Jessica decided the first thing she should do was talk to the clerk in the front office. Maybe he or she could fill in some missing details about how she got there. As she was walking along the sidewalk towards the office, someone came out of another room. Jessica avoided eye contact, praying that she was invisible to the stranger, just in case he was the one that brought her here. Although, if he were, he probably would have been in the motel room she woke up in, not three doors down from it. The man simply nodded in her direction and then climbed into his truck, before pulling out of his parking space and heading out to the road.

A little bell chimed as Jessica opened the office door. There was an older man standing behind a basic, wood-paneled counter, watching the local news as he puffed away on a cigarette. His eyes left the screen and landed on her as she reached the counter. 

“Good morning, miss,” a gruff voice greeted her, “something I can do for ya this mornin’?”

Jessica sighed, trying to think of what to ask without raising any suspicion. “I was wondering, I had kind of a weird night last night, and I was hoping you could tell me if I came here with someone else?” God, that sounded so slutty!

The older man picked up on it too. He chuckled crudely and responded, “If you did, miss, I wouldn’t know. You weren’t with ‘em when you checked in. Why? You find yourself alone this morning? I could keep ya some company if ya want.”

The sleazy smile almost made her take off running, but she needed more information. “I’m… okay, but could you tell me what town I’m in? I don’t recognize the area.”

“You’re in Lawrence, cutie pie!”

He was starting to make her uncomfortable, but she pressed on, “Lawrence? Lawrence where?”

“Uh…Kansas, sweetheart, Lawrence, Kansas. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jessica’s mouth dropped open. _Holy Hell! Lawrence…as in the hometown of the Winchesters,_ she thought? What was going on? “Thanks,” she said to the clerk, before backing out of the office in disbelief. _Toto, I’ve a feeling were not in Florida anymore!_

When she stepped back outside, she took a deep breath while she tried to get her wits about her. She spied an old phone booth at the end of the sidewalk and remembered the change that was in her pocket. With a quickening pace, Jessica closed herself in the throwback booth and inserted a dollar’s worth of coins into the slot, hoping that would be enough to make a long distance call to her parents. Not that she was too hopeful they would help her. 

She used the term “parents” pretty loosely when it came to her guardians. Her dad had died when she was young, and her mom remarried not too long after they buried him. She was too young to think anything of it at the time, but now she was pretty sure her mother had been seeing Rick long before her father got into the car accident that killed him. Joan, as she called her now, had become a different person the longer she and Rick were together, and Jessica resented her for trampling on the memory of her father with him. Plus, he was no Prince Charming! As Jessica got older, Rick had tried several times to hit on her when he was drunk, which was often. She told her mother, but Joan always said she was a liar, and she was just trying to cause trouble. So their mother-daughter relationship was less _Gilmore Girls_ and more _Mommy Dearest._

Still, she dialed the familiar number, and listened to the operator ask for another quarter before plunking it in the phone. A click sounded on the other end, and then it began to ring. After the fifth ring, a male voice came on the other side of the line.

”Pete’s Plumbing, how can I help you?”

Jessica shook her head in confusion, “I-I’m sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number.” She was sure she hadn’t, but she hung up and plunked a few more quarters into the slot. This time she made sure she paid strict attention to the number she dialed. 

“Pete’s Plumbing, how can I help you?”

Jessica hung up the phone, panic settling in again. What was going on?

There was a tattered Yellow Pages hanging from a thick metal wire underneath the body of the telephone, and she picked up the heavy book to thumb through it. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but then a thought occurred to her. Something was definitely weird about this situation. She went to bed in Florida and just happened to wake up in some skanky motel room in Lawrence, Kansas? Her parent’s phone number was _not_ her parent’s phone number. There were no residential listings in the book, so she flipped pages until she found the listings for psychics in the area. Scanning the page, her finger landed on a familiar name: Missouri Moseley.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, as she slammed the book shut and pushed the door back open, stepping back out onto the concrete walkway. Looking around, Jessica spotted a coin-operated newspaper rack, and she peered into the glass to read the issue information. The date read: February 12, 2013; two weeks and a day before the night she fell asleep in her apartment in Florida. Just when she thought this couldn’t get any stranger, time travel was also added into the mix! A nervous, but excited feeling formed in her gut. All the clues were leading her to the same conclusion: waking up in a sleazy mom and pop motel room, finding herself in Lawrence, Missouri Moseley’s name in the Yellow Pages, time travel...maybe, just maybe, she woke up in a world where Sam and Dean Winchester actually existed!


	2. “Running Down a Dream”

After having braced herself for the creep factor, Jessica had gone back in the motel office to ask the clerk for directions into town. Since it was only two miles east, she had walked it and checked into the transportation scenarios available to her. A bus ticket from Lawrence to Lebanon, Kansas cost $70.00 and it wouldn’t really go all the way to Lebanon. It would drop her about an hour south from her actual destination, and Jessica only had that hundred dollar bill that was luckily tucked into the back pocket of the unknown jeans she was currently wearing. If she spent that she would only have thirty bucks left, and she was sure she would need food and possibly shelter again before she could confirm that the Winchesters actually existed in this bizarro dimension she woke up in. At least that was her theory anyhow; there was actually something to string theory, and multiple dimensions existed. Every clue she had found so far made absolutely no sense, yet made perfect sense if this idea was correct. She wouldn’t find out if this was actually what happened to her until she could locate the Men of Letters Bunker and find Sam and Dean. Why she couldn’t have just woken up there already was beyond her understanding. That is, if they were even there yet. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly how many episodes ago they had stumbled upon it, especially with all the mini breaks they took the second half of the season, and who knows if the timeline in this dimension matched the timeline of the show?

Of course she had to get to Lebanon first, and that meant either a very long walk or hitchhiking, both of which did not appeal to her sensibilities. These were her only options however, other than using up what little money she had, since Lebanon was quite possibly the smallest, most isolated little town in Kansas. She didn’t know how to hotwire a car, nor did she want to go to jail because of it, so she decided on hitching. It would be more dangerous than walking, maybe, but if she managed not to get picked up by a serial killer, it would be much more practical.

Before she went about risking her life on a hunch, Jessica decided it was best to get a few supplies; not only for her safety, but for her comfort as well. The woman at the bus station said there was a thrift store a few blocks over where she could pick up some things for cheap. The first thing she wanted was a hoodie or jacket of some sort, seeing as it was February in the middle of America and all she had on was a freaking tee-shirt! As luck would have it, she found a green army jacket, similar to the one Dean wore so often on the show, er…or possibly for real. It was a size too big, but it would keep her warm. She also picked up a small backpack, some socks, a couple of changes of clothes, and a Swiss Army knife, which might come in handy for the serial killer scenario. All of this, plus a map and some bottles of water and snacks from the Gas ‘n Sip next door only cost a little over fifteen dollars. Thank God for thrift store prices! She would have to pick up some extra pairs of underwear somewhere too, but she wanted to get on the road.

After getting her new backpack filled with her supplies, she slung it over her shoulder and headed out toward the road to follow it out of town. She realized that she may be walking for a while before someone actually picked her up, so she had better start hoofing it in the right direction. Jessica made it as far as the outskirts of town before a car approached heading her way. She took a deep breath and said a silent prayer that whoever was in the car was not Ted Bundy, and she turned around, stuck out her thumb, and waited. Not only did the car not slow, it actually sped up past her as if she was the dangerous option! This hitchhiking thing was going to be more difficult than she thought. Just as her fingers were starting to get numb from the cold, a truck came up behind her and slowed, coming to a stop several feet ahead of her. Jessica ran to catch up, and opened the passenger door. The woman driving it looked like she was in her early forties or so, and had a huge smile on her face.

“You’re a brave soul hitchin’ out here in the cold,” she exclaimed, “where you headed girl?”

“Lebanon, ma’am. Could you take me that way?”

“Hop in, honey, I’m headed in that direction,” she replied.

Jessica said a quick thanks and tossed her bag up into the cab of the truck, then had to jump slightly to pull herself up into the passenger seat; a downfall of being short. When she got settled in, closing the door and putting on her seatbelt, the woman extended her hand and introduced herself.

“I’m Nancy, nice to meetcha!”

“Jessica,” she responded in kind, “Thank you for this, I was getting tired of walking.”

“No problem, kid. I’m just glad it was me that found you! You know hitchin’ can be dangerous?”

She _was_ lucky. Nancy was really sweet, and they spent the next two hours chatting about their lives, of course Jessica didn’t share her theory that her life was back in another dimension, but still the chat was nice. They pulled into a truck stop in Salina, which was as close to Lebanon as Nancy could take her. From here she would either have to hitch another ride or walk the rest of the way, and it was still pretty far. While she was there she purchased a pack of undies, simple cotton, not the prettiest things in the world, but it was better than living in the same pair forever! She also spent a couple of dollars on a slice of pizza. She had been snacking on peanuts and pretzels all day and she wanted a hot meal; pizza would have to do. After taking some time to freshen up a bit in the bathroom, she set about finding a ride the rest of the way. The place was filled with truckers, and since she was able to scope out who she approached, maybe she’d be able to avoid getting herself into trouble.

There were not many women amongst the crowd, and those whom she did speak with weren’t heading in her direction, so she was going to have to take a chance with one of the men. The trick was to avoid the handful that might not be such great guys. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t have faith in humanity, it was more so that she didn’t have faith in her own luck. If there was one rapist and one serial killer in the group of forty or so truckers here, she’d probably find them both! Jessica scoped out the place, trying to pay attention to people’s mannerisms and the way they talked. She had already weeded out the guys that approached her with cheesy pick-up lines, now she was trying to zero in on the ones who seemed too quiet, like weirdo quiet. About and an hour or so had passed before she finally approached someone. It wasn’t because she had a good feeling about him, more that she just wanted to get it over with and find the Winchesters.

His name was Craig, and he was medium height, medium build, probably could still overpower her if he wanted to, but he seemed friendly enough without being flirty or overly friendly. He was heading in the right direction too, and could drop her off directly in Lebanon, so it was time to take a chance. _C’mon humanity, don’t fail me,_ Jessica thought crossing her fingers and climbing up into the cab of his truck.

The ride began awkwardly silent. Jessica tried her best to come up with some small talk, but once they discussed the current weather she couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was so much easier with Nancy driving, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was a woman or just that Craig wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Staring out the window, Jessica kept silently praying that it wouldn’t be too much longer before they reached Lebanon. If the whole ride was going to be this weird, it was going to take forever. Just as the silence began completely freaking her out, Craig turned on the radio. It was a country station, which Jessica abhorred, but at least it was something to compensate for the quiet. About forty minutes or so into the drive, Craig finally spoke up; although it was not a conversation she really wanted to have.

“You’re pretty,” he said, matter-of-factly.

_Oh God,_ she thought, _here we go!_ “Thanks,” Jessica replied reluctantly. She knew it! He was going to turn out to be a serial killer! When she felt his hand land on her knee, she jumped.

“It’s alright, baby, I’m not gonna hurt ‘cha.”

She took a deep breath and tried to push his hand off her leg, but he gripped his fingers around her, digging into her muscle. “Look, I don’t want any trouble okay? I just want to get to where I’m going, and I appreciate the ride and all, but I’m not interested in doing anything like that.”

He chuckled, “Well, sweetie, this ride isn’t free, ya know! Gotta pay me somehow.”

This was not happening! Of course this was happening! _Fuck you humanity!_ Jessica gripped his hand and pried it off of her before scooting closer to the door and farther away from her assailant. “Just let me out,” she asked calmly.

Craig smiled, amused, and said okay, before pulling the truck over to the dusty shoulder and coming to a stop. 

Jessica took a deep breath and grabbed the strap of her backpack with one hand while simultaneously reaching for the door handle with the other; the click of the automatic locks preventing her from escaping. She turned just in time to see Craig leaning in towards her, his hand reaching for her face. With a swift movement, Jessica swatted his hand away and brought her legs up on the seat between them.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be like that,” he retorted, even as he reached for her again, “I promise you’ll like it.”

“Get off of me,” she screamed, as she struggled to wrestle him away. She kicked out her leg and her foot landed solidly on his chest, temporarily knocking the wind out of him and sending him reeling backwards. She took the moment to work on the door lock, and managed to get the door open, tumbling out onto the ground with a thud.

“Bitch!” Craig shouted after her, “to Hell with you!”

She looked up in time to see him pull the passenger door shut with a bang, and she barely inched out of the way of the tires as he spun out on the dirt and back onto the road, leaving her in a cloud of dust. Coughing and wiping her eyes, Jessica sat up when the grit dissipated and heaved a sigh of both relief and frustration. She wiped the dirt from her jeans as she stood up, but judging by the discoloration of her now dingy fingers, she wasn’t going to look any cleaner. She stood there for a moment, getting her bearings back, when she felt that dip in her stomach and painful jagged breathing that usually mean the tears were about to fall. Taking a deep breath and scrunching up her face, she managed to hold them back, getting her emotional upheaval in check.

She couldn’t be that far from Lebanon; the last sign they had passed said twenty miles, and that was a little while ago. Resolving to keep walking, she watched for any other signs or mile markers along the road. Her body was sore from hitting the ground when she fell out of the truck, but she knew she didn’t break anything, so she kept plodding along through the aching of her muscles. When another sign finally came into view it said that she was 9.8 miles from her destination. Just under ten miles; she could do it, she had to, because there was no way she was getting in another car or truck after what had happened.

Three hours had passed by the time she reached the town limits. She had downed both her bottles of water, her feet were blistered in the boots she was wearing, and her lips and hands were chapped from the cold. The only thing that would have made this worse was if it started snowing. _Oh God,_ she thought, _please don’t let it snow!_ When she finally made it into what was obviously the town center, she found a bench on the sidewalk and slumped down in it, exhausted. Her bones and muscles ached so badly, that it felt as if she were a voodoo doll, being poked and prodded with sharp pins. Breathing in what felt like shards of glass, she did her best to relax for a moment. She was in Lebanon, but she still had to find out where the hell the bunker was located. The town sign had said the population was only 218 though, so really, how hard could it be?

After resting for a moment, Jessica took in her surroundings. The town seemed mostly deserted. A lot of the shops that lined Main Street were empty shells, boarded up windows, and broken glass. There seemed to be a few establishments still open down the other end of the street, and she was hoping there was a place for her to use the bathroom and get herself cleaned up a little. Using all the willpower and strength that she could muster, she pushed herself back up onto her feet and walked towards the end of the block where a few cars sat in front of one of the brick buildings. When it finally came into closer view, she saw that it was a small town library. Luckily, it was open, and she made her way inside.

She knew she probably didn’t look that great, and judging by the way the woman at the checkout desk was staring at her she figured she was right. The library was tiny; she couldn’t imagine they had that great of a selection. It was dead quiet, even for a library. Only two other people were milling about the stacks, leafing through the pages of books before putting them back again and picking up another. The librarian continued to stare as Jessica made her way over to her.

“Hi,” she said, as friendly as possible, “you don’t happen to have a restroom do you?”

The woman gave her the once over before responding, “It’s in the back.”

“Thank you,” Jessica replied with a smile, before making her way to the back of the room.

The bathroom emulated the library, it was teeny-tiny, and it was a one-stall, unisex bathroom. It was moderately clean, but she wasn’t complaining. She just wanted to do her business, wash some of the dirt off of her, and find the damn bunker. Once she felt that she somewhat resembled her former self, she headed back out into the library to see if she could find some schematics for the town. She felt the librarian’s eyes boring into her as she walked around. In a town this small, she figured they didn’t take too lightly to outsiders who came in looking a wreck. They probably thought she was some homeless drifter that floated into town. She wondered if they’d say the same about Sam and Dean if they came in here? Would they already be considered locals? She still wasn’t a hundred percent sure they even existed.

Jessica didn’t have any luck finding schematics, or even a good detailed map, but she did find some local history books and thumbed through them. After sorting through a ton of useless information, she finally found a reference to an old power plant that had shut down in the early 1920’s. There was no mention of it ever reopening, and she guessed that would be a great place for a secret society to hole up. There was a picture in the back of the book, and it was exactly what she was looking for: The Men of Letters Bunker. Noting the location, she slammed the book shut loudly, earning her a “Shhhhhh” from the librarian, and she headed out the door to go about finding the old building.

Back out on the street, a gust of wind whooshed by giving her a chill. It was getting colder. She needed to hurry up and find this place before it got dark, and that time of day was rapidly approaching. From what she could remember from the show, the bunker was near some tall buildings, and up on a hill; she didn’t think Kansas had hills. If it were nearby, she should be able to find it since it was elevated, but she couldn’t see it from here. Walking to the corner, she looked up and down the side streets, but no power plant. After walking about ten more blocks, and almost out of town, she was about to give up, but that’s when she saw the slope of a hill to her left. A surge of excitement and anticipation coursed through her and she crossed the street at the intersection, headed between the old brick buildings toward the slope. After walking five short blocks she reached the end of the street she was following, and up and to her right, she could see it.

Her stride quickened as she searched for a way to get up the hill, the side of which was almost vertical, and impossible to climb. Further down she saw the beginning of a retaining wall, and decided to follow that around. She knew that her boys - that’s what she always called them - drove the Impala up a long winding road to get to the doorway. Access to that road had to be somewhere close by. Another gust of wind pushed her from behind, and the army jacket she had bought earlier that day wasn’t quite thick enough to keep out the cold. She hoped that when she found the entrance, Sam and Dean would be there, would take her in, let her get warmed up, but she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. She knew they would be skeptical about her story.

By the time she found the dirt roadway that led up to the old building, she had walked nearly a quarter of a mile. She was exhausted, her feet hurt, and looking at the sloped roadway ahead of her, she was afraid she was going to collapse before she could even make it to the bunker! Mentally bracing herself, Jessica pushed forward at an easy pace. It was just a little bit further; then she could rest. Just when she didn’t think she could go any further, the door came into view. A spike of adrenaline surged through her and helped her close the distance.

It looked just like it did on the show. The entrance was sunken into the earth, while the exterior of the old power plant loomed over her. The brick around the metal doorway had tiny green moss sticking out through little cracks, and there were some small piles of dead, wet leaves scattered about. Jessica got so excited that she slipped and nearly fell down the concrete steps, buy luckily she caught herself on the rail. When she reached the door, she examined it carefully. It was mildly rusted from the years of being exposed to the elements, and she could tell by looking at it that it was probably heavy. 

With a smile, she pulled on the handle, and her heart sank as she realized that it might be locked. She tried again, this time pulling with all her might, and the door gave a loud scraping moan as it opened. She stepped inside to a small, dark vestibule and silently cursed herself for not buying a flashlight. They never showed the boys enter into this space, so she wasn’t sure where to go, and with very little visibility it would be easy for her to get lost or hurt. With that in mind, she pushed the exterior door out further to let in more light from the outside. Once she did so, she could make out more of the little entryway and a utility staircase heading further down. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw another door to the right. She pushed it open and her jaw dropped.

There it was, just as she imagined it. The old timey Edison light bulbs illuminated the cavernous room. To her right were the huge leaded windows that cast a teal glow into the space, and to her left was the art deco inspired wrought iron railing that overlooked the Men of Letters war room. Peering over the balcony, Jessica marveled at the tiled walls that surrounded the technological wonders of a bygone era. They had only had this set for a few episodes now, and she was in awe at the vastness of it all. 

“Oh my God!” she squealed as her eye caught the illuminated world map table at the very center. Quickly, she made her way down the iron stairs, any sense of fatigue momentarily gone in the rush of adrenaline. She looked around her, smiling at all the little details she remembered seeing on the show. Tracing her fingers along the table at the center, she stopped short when her eyes finally wandered over towards the library. Her jaw dropped at the size of it. It was massive! Slowly, she made her way into the room, letting her eyes take in the sight of all the books lining the walls and when she finally focused on the table in front of her, her heart skipped a beat. There, sitting on the far corner, was a sign of life; a bacon cheeseburger – Dean’s favorite! 

Her stomach rumbled at the sight of it; she was starving! She walked over to examine it more closely. It looked fresh, but when she put her finger on the bun, it was cold, like it had been sitting there for a while. Jessica looked around the room for any sign of the Winchesters, but she was in the room alone. “Hello,” she called out, her voice echoing through the huge space, “is anyone here?”

There was no reply.

Reinvigorated by the knowledge that someone actually lived here, she headed back through the war room and into the hallway that she assumed led to the living quarters. There was a door immediately to her right that was marked “Lab” and as she followed the curve in the hallway, she came upon the door to the Mess Hall. There was still no sign of the boys, but Jessica paused here and took in the sight. The cafeteria style table was to her right and in front of her was a big metal prep table like you would find in a commercial kitchen. Behind that was a griddle and a stove, and there was a greasy, metal spatula sitting to the side of it. It looked like someone must have just cooked that burger. Her stomach growled again, but she pressed on.

Walking back out into the corridor, Jessica once again shouted a “Hello”, but there was still no answer. She continued down the hall, passing closed, numbered doorways and other long corridors that split off at right angles to the far reaches of the bunker. At the end of the hall was a large double door that swung open into a shower room. It was large, and had several sets of lockers as well as bathroom stalls, sinks, and of course the typical locker room shower set up. She blushed when she thought about Dean and Sam using them. _It would be so great to take a nice, long, hot shower right about now,_ Jessica thought to herself, but she kept on exploring the hallways.

Turning the corner, she noticed a door was open to her left, so she peered inside. It was illuminated dimly by a desk lamp, and there was a bed jutting out from the wall to her right. The space was very Spartan, not much décor, but it still looked lived in. The bed was made, and there wasn’t much clutter. This must be Sam’s room. It wasn’t “decorated” like Dean’s was, and come to think of it, they never really showed Sam’s room before. From the few episodes she had seen of the bunker this season, it seemed like Sam didn’t really embrace it as a home like Dean did, so it kind of made sense that it was all function and no form.

Continuing down the hallway and around another corner, Jessica shouted out for someone to hear, but there was still no response. If Sam and Dean did indeed live here, they weren’t home now. All she could hear was the echo of her boots clomping on the tile floor and bouncing off the tiles that lined the walls. These doors were all closed too, counting down the numbers as she went, until another open door came into view. She peered inside. This room, too, was dimly lit by a few table lamps, but it was a room she recognized: Dean’s room. Above the bed, displayed on the wall was his weapon collection, which continued over to the wall to the left. This display included the bad-ass, axe-looking-thingy Dean brought back from Purgatory. _Oh God,_ Jessica thought, _he had to really survive that!_ All the things Sam and Dean had been through, was all real! Suddenly, she felt guilty for calling herself a fan. These poor guys had been to Hell and back, literally…like for real!

Looking around for a moment, her eyes landed on the beat up and faded picture of Mary Winchester, her arms wrapped lovingly around a younger version of Dean. He couldn’t have been more than three or four in that picture. She ran her finger over it reverently, knowing it meant the world to him. The room smelled clean, as if he had just moved in, and she wondered how long they had been there. 

After pondering for a moment, she started to feel the fatigue from her journey again. She was so hungry that she felt like gaging, and she finally said “to hell with it” and made her way back to that bacon cheeseburger. She sat in one of the library chairs, and savored every glorious bite. It was awesome, albeit cold. Not like something you would get from a fast food joint, but a real, homemade burger. It was so good in fact that any remorse she felt for eating it left the building. Shoving the last bite in her mouth, she relaxed into the chair and breathed in deeply, slowly releasing the breath and calming her jangled nerves. What would work better, was a nice, hot shower. 

Leaving the empty plate behind, Jessica walked back in the direction of the shower room, her backpack and extra change of clothes in hand. She placed her stuff on a bench directly across from the showers, and dug out a pair of leggings and a soft, old concert tee-shirt she bought at the thrift store earlier that day. It had felt like forever ago, and she just needed to relax. She hadn’t thought to buy a towel, but luckily there was a stack sitting on a shelf against the far wall. The smell test confirmed they were clean, and she draped the towel across the top of the half-wall that split the space in half. Undressing quickly, she turned on the faucet and a steady, powerful stream of water came tumbling down from above her. Her muscles loosened up as the hot water and steam warmed her skin. There was a bottle of Suave men’s shampoo in Ocean Breeze and a used bar of Irish Spring soap in the little niche in the wall, and although the scent was a bit masculine, she reveled in the feeling of being clean again.

Turning off the water and toweling off, she changed into a new pair of undies and her change of comfortable clothes before wandering down the hallway again to look for an empty room. She really needed to get some sleep. Unfortunately, all the doors were locked except for Sam and Dean’s. She debated for a moment about curling up in one of the arm chairs in the library, but she just wanted to be comfortable, and she decided to just curl up on top of Dean’s bed. There was a throw blanket sitting on a chair in the corner of his room that she used to cover herself, thinking it would be rude to climb in under his sheets. The memory foam mattress felt like she was sinking into a cloud, and it didn’t take long after she closed her eyes before she fell asleep.


	3. “Bring It On Home”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: From this point forward, any dialogue used from the actual show is strictly for anchoring the new character into existing cannon. No copyright infringement is intended. All dialogue used from the series belongs to the writers and show creators.

The roar of the Impala’s engine whimpered away as Dean put her in park and killed the ignition. He checked his watch; it was a little after four in the morning. He and his brother had been driving all night to get home from Idaho, where they had just finished up a case. Sam was currently passed out against the passenger side window, and Dean couldn’t wait to lie down on his new memory foam mattress. His legs and back were stiff from driving, and having a place to call home was a nice change of pace. They were lucky to have found the Men of Letters bunker. To Dean, it wasn’t just some place to hang their hats when they were between cases, it was truly and genuinely a place of their own…finally!

Dean reached over and gave Sam’s chest two quick, but forceful taps. “Wake up Sleeping Beauty!”

With a start, Sam woke and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He yawned and looked out the window to see the entrance to the bunker. To him, the place was more like a headquarters than a home. He saw how excited Dean was over having his own room, and he was happy for his brother, but for Sam it was just a place to work. And what a place it was; with the extensive library full of books on lore and spells, and just about everything about the supernatural world that you could possible imagine, he was like a kid in a candy store. It was just a convenience that there happened to be beds and a kitchen to facilitate their needs.

The familiar squeak of the driver’s side door sounded as Dean got out into the brisk winter air. He closed the door behind him with a metallic bang, and took a long, yawning stretch to relieve the ache in his muscles. Walking around the back of the car, he was joined by Sam as they shuffled sleepily towards the bunker’s entrance. He stopped short when he noticed the door was half opened.

“Did you not shut the door when we left?” he asked his brother with an air of accusation.

Sam shook his head with a huff, “Of course I shut it!”

“Man, really?” Dean half asked, half complained knowing what this meant. It meant someone had broken in while they were gone. They had just found the place for crying out loud, they had to deal with a break-in already?

With an aggravated sigh, Dean drew his gun, and Sam followed suit, both of them expertly navigating through the vestibule and onto the mezzanine of the Crow’s Nest. The lights were still on as they had left them, and there was no one in their line of sight down below. Still, they quietly and cautiously made their way down the stairs, eyes darting from corner to corner, waiting to be suddenly ambushed by an intruder. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Dean nodded for Sam to split off into the corridor while he continued on to investigate the library. He gingerly climbed the short stairs up into the space and he scanned the room to see if anyone was hiding amongst the shelves. He only noticed one thing that was out of place.

“Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, noticing the burger he had left on the table was now just a pile of crumbs, “Someone ate my burger!” Sure, it was a couple days old, but he would’ve eaten it! He had an iron gut that could take on anything.

With a newfound reason to kick some ass, Dean continued towards the back of the library and out the rear door into the corridor to meet up with Sam. When he turned the corner, Sam had just come out of the kitchen at the far end of the hallway and shook his head. The coast was clear so far. Communicating with each other silently, they each took a different offshoot of the hallway jiggling door handles to see if any of the locked rooms had be breached. Still, there was no one. 

After checking Sam’s room, Dean continued around the curve of the hall towards his own. Sam turned the corner up ahead, which made Dean flinch a moment, causing him to aim his .45 at his brother’s head. “Dammit, Sam, I almost tagged you!” he griped, giving his brother a stern look. He received a look of apology, and the two of them continued on together towards Dean’s bedroom. 

The door was shut, and Sam leaned his back against the wall to the left of the frame, readying his gun while Dean quietly placed his hand on the knob, ready to push it open. A silent count of three ghosted between them and then Dean forced the door open, swinging it inward. With guns drawn they entered the space, a spear of light cutting into the darkness and falling on a fabric covered shape at the foot of the bed. Sam switched on the lights as they both cocked their pistols and aimed for the mattress. A look of confusion washed over their faces as they took in the sleeping form of a young girl. From what they could see, she had shoulder length brown hair and a pretty face, and she was buried under the fleece throw that Dean just bought for his room.

“Who the hell is that?” Sam whispered.

“You think I know?” Dean asked incredulously. Pausing a moment to think, he decided to nudge the bed frame with his foot, shaking it and causing the girl to sit up, startled. Both he and his brother trained their guns on her again. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” Dean asked gruffly.

The girl’s jaw dropped in what looked like a mixture of fear and excitement. “Dean? Sam? Oh my god you are real!” She squealed in delight. She made to move off the bed, but Dean stepped toward her forcefully, punctuating the fact that he had a gun on her. The girl put her hands up in surrender.

"Get up slowly,” Dean ordered, and watched as she did what she was told. When she stood, he noticed that she was tiny, possibly a whole foot shorter than he and his brother. She wouldn’t be much of a threat if she was human, but he couldn’t take the chance if she wasn’t. He watched as a smile started to form slowly across her face again.

“Okay, so, I wasn’t sure you guys would be real, but I’m prepared for this,” she began, trying to explain.

“Prepared for what?” Sam asked, mimicking the trepidation of his brother.

The girl took a deep breath and slowly stretched her arm out. The other arm cautiously reached over to her backpack which was on the nearby dresser and pulled out a small Swiss Army knife, which made both Dean and his brother tighten the grip on their guns. “It’s not for you, I swear,” the girl said, before slicing a small line into her forearm with a wince, “see, it’s silver, I’m not a shapeshifter or a revenant.”

The brothers looked at each other with a look communicating that they were both thinking the same thing. Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his flask of holy water, unscrewing the lid and splashing it on the girl’s face, as Dean kept his aim steady. There was no steam coming off of her. She wasn’t a demon either. Sam hit the decocking lever on his gun and trained it down to the floor, but Dean still wasn’t taking any chances.

“Are you a hunter?” he asked, still wary of the girl that was squatting in their new home.

She sort of giggled at that and shook her head, “No, but that would be pretty awesome.”

“Then who are you? How do you know who we are and where we would be?” he pressed.

“I can explain all of this, I think,” she stated, putting her hands back up to show surrender again, “You don’t need to keep that thing on me. I would never do anything to hurt you guys.”

Dean sniggered, “Yeah, we’ll see about that, sweetheart!”

“Dean,” Sam said, in a much softer tone, as he gently pushed Dean’s gun towards the ground.

Reluctantly, and keeping a stern face, Dean uncocked his gun as well, but he held on to it just in case. After taking the girl, whose name they discovered was Jessica, back into the library, Sam cleaned and bandaged her cut, and they sat and listened to her story about how she woke up in Lawrence and came to find them. The idea that she traveled between dimensions in her sleep didn’t do much to soothe Dean’s suspicion. Sam on the other hand, was more willing to buy her tale.

“Think about it Dean. Remember when Balthazar zapped us into that world where we were TV stars? Maybe that’s where she came from!”

“Who brought her here? The angels? For what reason?” Dean challenged.

"I don’t think that’s where I’m from,” she spoke up, interrupting their brainstorming, “I saw that episode…it was great by the way…but, nothing like that actually happened in my world. Misha didn’t die, you two didn’t go all crazy train on the set of _Supernatural_ , and in real life Jared and Jensen are like best friends. That had to be a completely different place.”

Dean scoffed, “Great, so there are _two_ worlds where some rich douche bags are pretending to be us! That’s just…” He sighed in frustration at the thought.

“They’re not douche bags.”

“What?” Dean inquired; a look of utter disbelief on his face.

“Jared and Jensen…they’re pretty awesome.”

Sam tried to contain his smile as Dean looked bewildered.

“Oh, okay, good. So we have another Becky on our hands,” Dean said, rolling his eyes and pacing the floor, “that’s…that’s awesome. Good.”

“Alright, calm down,” Sam declared, trying to wrangle the conversation back to a more productive dialogue. “We should probably figure out how and why she got zapped here, and how to get her back.”

“Man, we just got home!” Dean whined, “Now we gotta do research?”

“We don’t have to do it right now,” Sam responded, “We should get some rest. We can pick it up tomorrow, or well…later today I guess.”

“Fine, but if she’s staying here we need to set some ground rules,” Dean began, focusing straight at Jessica, “One, you stay put! No coming and going in and out of the bunker, I’m not gonna feel responsible if something happens to you. Two…you’re getting locked in at night. I’m also not going to be murdered in my sleep…”

“Dean, c’mon…” Sam tried to interrupt, but his brother’s surly look stopped him.

“Three,” Dean continued, “stay away from my food.”

Jessica grimaced and tried to apologize, “I’m sorry I ate your burger. I figured it was yours, but I was so hungry.”

Dean’s eyes seemed to soften for a moment, but he quickly put up his wall of resolution. “Just don’t do it again” he commanded, and then he closed his eyes and huffed in vexation. “I’m going to bed,” Dean announced before turning his back on Jessica and his brother and stalking off towards his room. He knew he was being a bit of an asshole, but he was tired, irritated that a new problem had just fallen into their lap right as they got back from their last one, and he was worried about his brother. The first trial should have been on him, not Sam, and he was pissed that he fucked it up. Who knew what the other trials would be and how screwed they would be in the end? He had been determined to keep Sam safe, to take the inevitable tidal wave of pain and torture that would follow and shield his brother from it, but he messed up, and now it was on Sam. Maybe he could convince his brother to let him take over. They could find another hellhound! 

Dean shut the door behind him as he entered his room. He paused for a moment, looking at the disheveled throw blanket that their unexpected visitor had been sleeping under, and he realized that they were going to have to take one thing at a time. This girl didn’t belong here. He wouldn’t wish this life on anyone, and he would be damned if he didn’t get her home where she was safe. If only he could do the same for his brother.

*****

After Sam unlocked a spare room and gave her linens to use, he said goodnight and told her not to worry about Dean’s rules. He wasn’t going to lock her in. Jessica said goodnight also, reassuring him that there was nothing to worry about, and then went about making the bed for herself. Part of her was excited that she had her own room at the Men of Letters bunker, but a part of her wondered how long she would get to stay. For whatever reason, when she realized where she had ended up, it never occurred to her that they would try and send her back to her own dimension. It made sense, the boys come across a problem and they go about solving it, but she wasn’t even sure she wanted to go back home. Her life wasn’t that exciting before, now she had the chance to be part of something greater! The Winchesters were heroes in this world, and Jessica could be a part of that. Isn’t this the life she wished for? Did she not just say how cool it would be to live in their world? 

When she finished making up the bed, she decided she was too excited from meeting Sam and Dean to go back to sleep. It was already 6:00 a.m., so she would just be getting up in another couple of hours anyway. Instead, she decided to go to the kitchen and see what the boys had for food in the place. Dean didn’t seem all that happy that she was there, much to her disappointment, so maybe if she made them a nice big breakfast as a peace offering he would be more receptive to her being there. Trying to remember the way through the labyrinth of hallways, she finally managed to stumble upon the kitchen. The lights hummed to life when she turned on the switch, and she opened up the refrigerator to see what was inside. All she found was a few slices of leftover pizza, a Chinese takeout container half full of noodles, a half used packaged of ground beef, an open pack of Kraft Singles cheese, and a six pack of beer. The freezer was empty. On the open storage shelf to her left was a bag of hamburger buns and a loaf of bread, along with a box of Lucky Charms and some random condiments. Well, she had cereal, but no milk and that was all the breakfast food they had. She would have to make a run into town.

Going back to her room, she fished out the remainder of her money from the pocket of the jeans she wore the day before and counted it. She had $72.24 left. Grabbing her new jacket, she made her way up and out of the bunker. As she came up the set of concrete stairs to the road, her heart leaped at the sight of the Impala. It was just sitting right there in front of her! There was no resisting the urge to run her fingers along the shiny black surface. “Hi Baby!” she said excited. She peered in the windows and looked for all the little things that Chuck had said made her special in the episode “Swan Song”. The little army man was still wedged into the ashtray in the back driver’s side door, of course she couldn’t see the Legos that were inside the vents, but she imagined how they would sound when they rattled. She tried the handle, but Dean must have locked her up, so she didn’t get to hear the tell-tale squeak of the door. It was just as beautiful as she imagined, even with the dirt that was sprayed up onto the rocker panels. She was going to have to ask Dean to take her for a ride later. She wanted to hear her engine roar to life.

The winter wind was cold on Jessica’s face, but the walk to the small grocery store she passed by yesterday would no doubt get her blood flowing. Walking down the long winding drive, she decided she had better pick up some gloves and a winter hat too if she could find them. In a small town like this the grocers were usually multi-purpose with a wide array of things to buy. It took her about twenty-five minutes to walk the fifteen block jaunt to the center of town, but at least she wasn’t that cold anymore.

Inside the store, the fluorescent lights cast a yellowish glow over the brown and white checked linoleum. In the background, Jessica could hear the Muzak version of Toto’s “Rosanna” as she was greeted by the two women at the only two checkout lanes. She smiled a hello, and grabbed a small cart before heading in the direction of the cereal and breakfast aisle. She located the pancake mixes and grabbed a box of Bisquick, that way she could use it to make other things later, then she found the syrup a couple of shelves down and grabbed a bottle as well. Putting the items in her basket, she continued through the store for eggs, milk, butter, and some granny smith apples, a small jar of ground cinnamon, and after debating for a few minutes, decided on the bacon over the sausage. Everyone likes bacon. She swung by the deli and picked up some cold cuts, roast beef and turkey, and went back to the produce section for a head of lettuce and some vine-ripened tomatoes. Finally, she bought the cheapest bottle of shampoo and body wash she could find, and a toothbrush and toothpaste. She needed her own things if she was going to be there for a while. Once her cart was filled with what she needed, she went back up front to the checkout line and made her purchase. Her total came to $33.51 and she promptly handed over her payment. She had totally forgotten to look for a hat and gloves, but since she only had a little under $40 left now, she figured she could do without. The bag boy followed her suggestion and managed to get everything in four plastic shopping bags. 

The walk back to the bunker was more strenuous than she thought it would be because even though she didn’t have a ton of groceries, the weight of the bags seemed to get heavier and heavier the further she walked. By the time she got back to the bunker, the muscles in her legs and arms hurt and she had a crick in her neck. The relief that washed over her when she plopped the bags down on top of the prep table in the middle of the kitchen couldn’t be measured. Jessica massaged the back of her neck for a moment and tried to catch her breath. The clock hanging on the wall over the table read 8:25 a.m. and she figured since the boys had only been sleeping for about two hours or so, she would take a nice hot shower to warm up and soothe her aching muscles. Plus she didn’t think disheveled and sweaty would make a very good impression on them this morning. After putting the groceries away she headed to the shower room. It only took her about thirty minutes to clean up and get dressed again before heading back into the kitchen to start cooking. She took note of how good she looked with relatively no fuss. This world was certainly strange. 

Finding a big metal bowl on the shelf near the sink and a whisk hanging on a magnetic strip on the wall, she went about making the pancake batter. She couldn’t find a measuring cup, so she eyeballed the ingredients and added a splash more milk when the consistency was too thick. Once that was ready, she set it aside and found a cast iron skillet to cook the bacon in. When the pan was hot she laid the strips down and watched as they sizzled, the smell permeating the whole kitchen and making her stomach growl. It took three batches to cook the whole package, so she transferred each to a plate and when she finished all of them, she set the oven on low and put the plate inside to keep them warm. Even though she had syrup for the pancakes, she was aiming to impress, so she drained the grease from the bacon skillet out into a coffee mug and then wiped any excess out with a clean wet dish cloth, setting the skillet aside for a moment while she peeled and cut the apples into slices. There was another small metal mixing bowl on the nearby shelf, so she grabbed that and tossed the apple slices in it with the cinnamon she bought, and some of the sugar that was near the coffee pot. There wasn’t much of it, but she only needed a little bit. Once it was mixed, she melted some butter in the pre-greased cast iron skillet and dumped in the apple mixture. When they got nice and sweetly caramelized, they would go great over the pancakes. Next she got to scrambling some eggs, and when it was all done, she went about making the pancakes and storing everything in the oven so that they wouldn’t get cold. By the time she put on a pot of coffee, the room smelled nice and tasty! The aroma must have wafted throughout the bunker, because the next thing she knew Dean was coming through the doorway, a robe tied around him and his feet in slippers, looking for the source.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, warily.

“Good morning!” Jessica responded cheerfully, “I made you guys breakfast! It’s the least I could do since you’re letting me stay here. Sit, I’ll get you a plate.”

As she went about getting a little bit of everything piled onto an empty plate for him, Dean looked at her and then pursed his lips and nodded in approval. He wasn’t going to turn down breakfast. Walking over to the fresh brewed pot, he poured himself a cup of coffee, black, and sat down at the table just in time for Jessica to place the plate in front of him. His eyes widened at the feast before him, and he looked up at her incredulously. “You made all this?” he questioned, and when she nodded he said, “Alright, you can stay as long as you want!”

Jessica smiled down at him and moved back to the prep table to watch him eat. Yeah, yeah, kinda creepy, but she still couldn’t believe she was there and Dean didn’t seem to notice.

“This is amazing,” Dean acknowledge with a mouthful of bacon and pancakes.

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied, happy he was enjoying it.

He turned to look at her, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’ll wait until Sam gets up. Let him eat first.”

Dean dismissed that idea and told her to sit down, so Jessica conceded and made herself a plate to join him at the table. She sat across from him and smiled shyly. It was so unreal that she was there, eating breakfast with Dean-frigging-Winchester. They began eating together in silence, which was fine with her, because suddenly she didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Dean spoke up again before things got awkward.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” he asked.

Jessica blanched, remembering his orders from earlier, “I know you said not to leave the bunker, but you guys didn’t have much to work with, so I walked downtown to the little grocery store to pick up some things.”

“You walked all the way downtown?”

“Well, I don’t have a car, and I thought you might object to me taking Baby,” she responded.

Dean looked across at her, puzzled, “How do you know I call her that?”

“I’ve seen the show, remember?”

His face took on an annoyed expression, “Right, I forgot, Sam and I are TV stars in your world!” 

Mentioning the show got Jessica curious about where she ended up in the timeline. What episode were they on? She knew it was a few weeks behind where she left off, buy how did that translate into events? “Hey Dean,” she began tentatively, “Where did you guys just get back from?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what case were you working on before you came back?” she asked tentatively.

Dean seemed to think about it for a moment, almost like he was hesitant to say anything. “It was a hellhound thing, out in Idaho.”

Jessica’s mouth fell open. Hellhounds? That was when… “Sam started the trials!”

“What do you know about the trials?” Dean asked suspiciously.

“Not much, I just don’t have a great feeling about them.”

Dean expressed vehement agreement with her sentiment. It occurred to her that they had no idea what was coming next, but she did, at least for the next couple of episodes worth of events. Maybe she could help them find a way around whatever ill-fated effects were going to inevitably be thrust upon the Winchesters this year. “Dean, you better get Sam in here. I’ve got some things to tell you.”


	4. “Home Sweet Home”

Jessica spent over a half an hour filling the Winchesters in on what their future had in store for them; at least as much as she could tell, and even though it was only a few episodes worth in her world, she at least had some knowledge that would help them. She told them about their cop friend who was now a witch and needed their help, and how they would help the Titan Prometheus, she mentioned that Cas seemed to be in trouble and that an angel named Naomi was up to no good, and above all, she told them to stop keeping secrets from each other. That was a pointed comment towards Sam, and when Dean asked him what she meant, Sam got defensive and shut the conversation down. Although she was tempted to squeal on him, Jessica kept her mouth shut for the moment. Hopefully, she could get Sam to confess to his brother about what the trials were actually doing to him on his own.

After her lengthy spoiler alert, she took her leave of them, heading back to her room with the excuse that she wanted to sort out some of her things. They didn’t have to know that she owned pretty much nothing at the moment. The idea was to get them talking about what they were going to do about the events to come. It didn’t take long before the shouting match bounced off every hard surface down the hall and into her room. Jessica finished unloading the stuff from her bag and left it all on the bed while she made her way back to the library, where the boys were at if full swing.

“Guys!” she yelled, interrupting their bickering, “I didn’t mean to start World War III.”

Sudden and unexpectedly, Dean channeled all his anger towards her. “That’s exactly what you were trying to do, wasn’t it?”

Jessica couldn’t keep the surprise off her face. She knew Dean would be the skeptical one, but she was hoping that she had earned just a little bit of his trust that morning. “You think I’m lying?”

“James is a witch? We helped him work a case involving witchcraft before, and it was nasty, there is no way he’d become one! What’s your agenda, really?” Dean replied.

“I don’t have an agenda!” Jessica spat back, “I’m trying to help you!”

Dean scoffed, “Yeah? Well, sweetheart, I’m not buying it! We still don’t know how or why you’re here, and you just expect us to believe this nonsense you’re telling us?”

“Dean, why would she lie?” Sam offered, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder to keep him from boiling over onto her.

“Oh c’mon Sam, you’re not actually buying what she’s selling are you?” he retorted.

“You didn’t seem to question it when you were accusing me of not being honest with you before!” Sam shouted back at him.

“Yeah, well, that’s had precedence,” Dean shot back, leaving the most angry, insulted look on Sam’s face that Jessica had ever seen before.

Sam was about to let loose on his brother again when Dean’s phone chimed in his pocket, stopping everyone short. He reached into his jeans to dig it out and read the text message that came through. He looked up at Jessica, his thick eyelashes like bars on a cell of regret. Clearing his throat and speaking in a much calmer manner he announced, “It’s James, he needs our help.”

The room stayed quiet for a few seconds, Sam looked to Jessica and then back to his brother, who was clearly trying to avoid eye contact with her in his shame. 

“That’s actually his familiar, Portia, but what do I know?” Jessica said, rolling her eyes as she walked away from them. Being mad at Dean made her feel almost dirty. He was her favorite, but he was being an asshole right now! When she got back to her room, she slammed the door behind her, just for emphasis in case he didn’t get the point from her sarcasm. Like an avalanche, all the confusion, frustration, and fatigue of the past 24 hours came tumbling down in the form of tears. She couldn’t even say why she was crying, it was just a tornado of emotions swirling around inside, and Jessica couldn’t control the aftermath. Just as soon as she released all her frustration, someone knocked lightly on the door. She quickly wiped the tears away and tried to get her breathing under control.

Without waiting for an answer, Sam cracked open the door and peered inside. Thank God! She didn’t want Dean to see that she was crying. Sam made his way inside and shut the door behind him, making his way over to her and sitting next to her on the cluttered mattress, taking in the measly amount of belongings she had. She didn’t look at him, trying to hide that she was crying, but when his hand landed on her back, a rogue sniffle betrayed her.

Sam sighed, “I’m sorry you got dragged into that out there. Dean was mad at me; you just got caught in the crossfire. He didn’t mean it.”

Jessica nodded, but wasn’t sure she really believed him. “Sam, I really am trying to help you guys!”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “and we’re going to help you too. We’re gonna find a way to get you back home. First, though, we’ve got to take care of this thing with James. Is there anything else you can tell me about it?”

“Um…Phillipe the cat, he’s the witness, and James didn’t kill anyone. It’s his friend, or mentor, I can’t remember what his name was, but you use Bobby’s witch killing spell to gank him.”

Sam smiled at her use of the word gank. “Thanks, Jess. We’ll be back soon, hopefully. Here,” he handed her a credit card with the name Bob O’Riley on it and she sniggered, “in case you need anything while we’re gone.”

Jessica smiled back and thanked him. He gave her arm a squeeze and walked out of the room, pausing for a moment to tell her not to worry about Dean, that he’d come around. Then he shut the door leaving her alone again. Sighing away the last of her tears, Jessica put the few sets of clothes she had away in an empty dresser drawer and packed the rest of her belongings back up in her pack, with the exception of the toothbrush and toothpaste she bought earlier that morning. She set that on the sink in the corner of the room next to the door, and then she lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling for a few hours before falling asleep; the exhaustion of the morning and her long journey from Lawrence finally overtaking the adrenaline of excitement.

*****

Dean pulled the Impala to a stop in front of room 40 of the Sleepy Lodge Motel and stepped out of the car continuing the heated debate with his brother. “Wow, you know, of all the lame ass things you’ve ever said…that’s got to be the lame-assiest.” He grabbed his duffle bag out of the back seat of his baby.

“I’m sorry, but I happen to think Shemp was a funnier stooge then Curly,” Sam retorted, grabbing his backpack from the other side of the back seat.

“Curly was a friggin’ genius!” Dean shot back taking it a little too personally.

“I always found Curly’s work a bit obvious.”

“It’s supposed to be obvious, man, they’re stooges!”

The debate was dropped as soon as they walked through the door to the evening’s outdated digs. Sam turned on the light and made his way over to the bed farthest from the door, laying his claim on it. “So, we calling James tonight?”

“Nah, we’ll just call him tomorrow,” Dean responded, following suit and dropping his bag down on the other bed, “the drive was a bitch.”

“So, do you think Jessica was right? You think James is a witch?” Sam asked, a little of Dean’s skepticism rubbing off on him. It’s not that he didn’t believe her story, but rather he didn’t _want_ to believe their friend James would go down that route.

“I don’t know,” Dean responded, shaking his head, “I don’t want to think so. God, I hate witches.”

“Well, what did he want?”

“His text said he needed help, he’s a cop, I figured it was work related.”

Sam smirked, “Yeah, well, Jess said it isn’t actually James that texted us. It’s his familiar, Portia.”

“ _Jess_ said? What you two settled into nicknames already?” Dean asked dubiously.

“No, of course not, I just think we should give her a chance. She seems like she really wants to help us. I just don’t think she’s out to get us like you do.”

“I don’t think she’s out to get us,” Dean scoffed, “I just think we don’t know everything about her yet, or her story.”

“Well if James does need our help, we do owe him,” Sam said, matter of factly.

Dean was stopped short by the comment, “The guy saved our lives once, Sammy, I mean it’s not like the guy…”

“Saved our lives?” Sam cut him off.

Dean didn’t have anything to say after that. His brother was right; the least they could do was pay their debt to the guy. “I’m gonna go for a beer run, do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good,” Sam said, rifling through his bag some more.

“You sure?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.”

Dean pursed his lips in thought, ready to open up another can of worms with his brother. “Cause you did just gank a hellhound, which is no slice of pie and according to Jess, there is a minefield of who knows what crap ahead.” He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I just want to make sure that you are okay?”

“According to _Jess_?” Sam sniggered, “I thought you didn’t believe her story.”

Dean’s eyes looked upward into his head, like he was searching for a way out of the trap he set for himself. “I’m just saying, we could find another devil dog, you could tag out, I could snuff the son of a bitch…” 

“Dean, Kevin doesn’t even know what the next trial is yet, so whatever it is you’re worried about, stop. I’ll be ready.” 

Nodding his head and giving up the argument, Dean turned and walked out the door. His keys jangled as he pulled them out of the pocket of his jeans and opened the driver’s side door of his car. He didn’t want his little brother doing these trials. It was too dangerous, and their new houseguest had hinted that they were doing something bad to Sammy. It was like he had said back in Idaho, he needed his brother to be safe. He was a grunt, but Sam was smart, and he knew that if anyone was going to get out of the life it was him. Being a hunter was all Dean knew. Even if they managed to close the gates of Hell once and for all, even if he didn’t die trying, or worse, what kind of life could he really make for himself? Dean had tried that once with Lisa and Ben, and look how that ended. No, he was going to die bloody, but Sammy…he could have the wife and kids and white picket fence that he always dreamed of. There was no way he was going to give up the argument so easily. He had to convince his brother to let him take over the trials. They weren’t too far in to start over and get it right this time.

*****

Jessica had done some hard thinking while the boys were off helping James. She knew that when they got back they would be working on another case, hers. The trouble was she wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to her world. Sure, she would miss her friends, maybe even her mother a little bit, but what was really left back there for her? She could finish school, maybe become a writer, or maybe she’d become a starving, homeless burden because she only graduated with a degree in English. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard the old joke, “a degree in English is just a fancy application for waiting tables”. _This_ place, this world where Sam and Dean Winchester were real-life, breathing, fighting heroes, maybe she could make a difference in _this_ world.

Resolving to make herself useful…no not just useful, indispensable… Jessica set about tidying up the place. The boys hadn’t lived there long, but the bunker was huge and they were going to need someone to help with the upkeep. It took close to four hours to scrub all the hard surfaces, and that was with taking shortcuts here and there. She focused mainly on the rooms they used most often, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the library, and did minor touch ups on any unlocked rooms she found. After she was done the place looked like new, and smelled great! Exhausted and dirty from her exertions, she decided to take a shower, and when she was done she made herself a turkey sandwich and headed into the library to do some preliminary research on Prometheus and Zeus. She had just watched the episode “Remember the Titans” before she was magically zapped here, but she couldn’t remember all the little details. She wanted to have a full dossier ready to go for when they got back. After all if she proved she was helpful, they would be more likely to let her stay.

There were so many books in the library, but luckily the Men of Letters had been extremely meticulous in cataloging everything. Good thing Jessica learned a thing or two about the Dewey Decimal System in college. She wasn’t sure she could say that about her peers. The Digital Age had certainly made things a lot easier, but she was an old soul, and she knew the dangers of being helpless if and when the technology went down. Having some good ole’ fashioned research skills were going to come in handy now. After tracking down some tomes on Greek Mythology, and precariously balancing her 5’2” frame on top of books and boxes stacked atop chairs to reach the right shelves, she sat down and thumbed through the pages, writing down anything that seemed relevant to the case the boys would inevitably stumble upon. She studied the information for hours, and felt her eyes getting heavier and heavier as the night progressed.

After taking a break to brew a pot of coffee, Jessica gathered up all her notes on Prometheus, Artemis, and Zeus and went looking for a computer to type up the dossiers she compiled. Of course Sam took his laptop with him, and she thought better of rifling through Dean’s belongings to see if he had one himself. She didn’t want to give him any more reasons to be cynical about her. Hell, she didn’t even know if they had a printer anyway. Giving up and heading back to the library to begin the tedious task of reorganizing and handwriting her reports, she luckily spotted an old typewriter sitting on one of the desks in the corner of the War Room. “Jackpot!” she announced to no one. She set about testing the old thing and luckily for her, it still worked! Working for a few more hours, and a few typos later – she missed having a delete key – she finished her task and found some manila folders in a drawer to keep all the papers organized.

When she was done she checked the clock; it was only 8:30 p.m., but she was wiped. If she went to bed early, she’d be able to get an early start tomorrow. She wasn’t sure when the boys would be home, and she didn’t have a way of contacting them, but she figured she would get a few more things done while they were gone to be ready for their return. After putting away all the books she took down earlier, Jessica turned off the lights in the library, leaving the War Room lit, just in case Sam and Dean got home late that night, and headed towards her room. The space was less than cheery, overly bare, but she was already starting to feel like it was home. The idea of it being home after only arriving there a few days ago seemed a bit ridiculous, but it was true nonetheless. She could make a go of it here.

The next morning, Jessica woke up early and got herself together pretty quickly. She got dressed, had breakfast, and pocketed the rest of the cash she had as well as the credit card Sam gave her, just in case, and headed downtown for some supplies. The weather wasn’t any warmer than last time, so her first priorities were the hat and gloves she neglected to buy the other day. She found them at the local Goodwill and while she was there she picked up a few more outfits so she didn’t have to do laundry every three or four days. That would get old real fast! She even found a warmer winter coat and a new pair of boots. Afterwards, she hit up a small electronics store and bought herself a burner phone and loaded it with her last thirty-five dollars in cash. She had to have some way of communicating with the Winchesters while they were away; she didn’t like not knowing what was happening, and after this case, she wouldn’t have a clue as to what was in store for them.

When she had left the bunker, she told herself that the credit card Sam gave her would be for emergencies only, that she didn’t want to take advantage of their hospitality, but she still wanted to get some more groceries for the bunker. There may not be much else she could do to help the boys, but she could at least keep house for them. Jessica was no gourmet chef, but she knew how to cook a few good recipes. When she was growing up with her absent mother and her obnoxious stepfather, she found herself left to her own devices quite often when it came to meals. The Food Network came in handy then, and she now had a handful of go-to, home-cooked meals in her arsenal. From what she knew about the Winchesters, they could certainly use some comfort food every now and again.

It took another hour or so to do the shopping, but she had enough to work with for the next week, plus the items she already bought that were back at the bunker. The problem now was getting it back. She had a lot of bags, and after consolidating, they were heavy. Jessica sighed and resigned to call for a cab. She asked the customer service desk if they would call one for her, and it arrived in just under four minutes. Before getting in she checked to make sure it took credit cards; she figured it would this being 2013 after all, but since she was straight out of cash she had to be sure. Luckily, this sleepy little town was keeping up with the times and she placed the bags next to her and climbed in, asking the driver to drop her off at the corner by the old power plant. It only took a few minutes to get there, and when the cabbie stopped, Jessica swiped the stolen credit card in the reader and waited anxiously for it to go through. She had never broken the law in her life, and it was making her nervous. The receipt started printing, and she thanked the driver and quickly got out of the car. She waited until he drove off, and with her bags in tow, she began the slow walk up the hill towards the entrance of the bunker. By the time she reached the door, she was out of breath and her arms felt like dead weight.

“I’m gonna have to get in shape if I’m gonna stay here,” she said through a wheeze.

Once she got all the groceries put away, she set up her new phone and put away her new clothes. She made some lunch, ate it in the kitchen, and cleaned up. Then…well what the hell could she do now? She had pretty much seen all parts of the bunker that were open to her yesterday when she cleaned, and she was tapped out on research on the Greeks. Suddenly, this big old underground building felt like it was closing in on her. God it was going to be boring without the boys! Finally she resorted to pulling a book off one of the shelves and reading. At least the MOL had some fiction titles in the mix.

She ended up reading right through supper, and she finished the book by bedtime. Not that she had a specific bedtime to adhere to, but at this point she figured sleep was as good a time waster as anything. After putting the book back up, she headed down to her room, changed into one of her softest tee-shirts and took off her jeans, placing them on the chair in the corner. She could probably get another day out of them before they had to be washed. Reaching to pull down the nubby blanket and the sheets Sam had lent her, Jessica settled into her bed and fell fast asleep.

When morning came, she decided she needed to occupy her time with a project. Thinking ahead yesterday, she had bought all the ingredients she needed to bake Dean a pie. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Jessica said aloud, remembering the adage her mother used to spout whenever she cooked for her stepfather. It couldn’t hurt to try in this case. Sam had been pretty quick to accept her, but she had to butter Dean up a bit more. Dean loved him some pie. Hopefully, coming home to a freshly made treat would do the trick. Jessica wasn’t sure when they would be home, but hopefully it would be sometime that day, and if not it would keep a few days in the fridge. She would just pop it back in the oven and heat it up when he got there.

She spent the early part of the day making sure the dough for the crust came out just right, and she took a short cut and used canned cherry pie filling instead of fresh to make things go smoother. Once she had the crust laid out in the pan and the filling in place she topped it with another layer of dough, and laughed as she decided to create a cutout of a devil’s trap to let it vent. It would be a surprise, but at least Dean’s pie would be demon-proof! Whatever, she got a kick out of it, and there was no doubt he’d still eat the pie.

Once the pie was in the oven baking, Jessica took a quick shower and got dressed. When she was done, she read a little bit while she waited for the oven timer to beep, and when it finally did, she set the pie on the table for it to cool. It smelled like cherry heaven in the kitchen! Not soon after the whole front of the bunker carried the scent. If it tasted as good as it smelled, she’d have Dean hooked in no time!

Jessica didn’t have to wait long to find out. While she was sitting in the library, reading the sequel to the book she finished the day before, the bunker door squealed open. Jumping up from her seat and thumping the book down on the table in front of her, she moved quickly to greet the boys at the bottom of the stairs. She could hear the two of them talking as the interior door to the Crow’s Nest was jerked open. Their footsteps stopped short as they entered. 

“I smell pie!” Dean exclaimed, pushing his way past his lumbering brother and following his nose down the stairs.

Jessica was waiting at the bottom. “It just came out of the oven, not too long ago,” she announced with a smile.

Dean stopped short again, and looked down at her. “You made it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I figured you could use some homemade comfort after a hunt.”

He kept his best poker face in place, but when he walked passed her, the corners of his lips curled up.

Sam made his way down the stairs and stopped to greet her, “Hey Jess, everything go okay while we were gone?”

“Yes, it was boring as hell this last day or so, but I managed.”

“You know, if you’re trying to win Dean over, you’re on the right track,” Sam said with a smile, just as Dean reemerged carrying the entire pie with him in one hand and a fork in the other.

“What is this?” Dean said with a confused look as he held the pie out for both her and his brother to see.

“Is that…is that a devil’s trap?” Sam asked, perplexed.

Jessica bit her lip to contain her giggles. “At least there won’t be any demons getting in it,” she said, barely containing herself.

Dean gave her a WTF look while Sam let out a solid, hearty laugh.

“Sam thought it was funny,” she smirked.

After looking from Jessica to Sam and back again, Dean finally rolled his eyes, shoveled a forkful into his mouth, and headed off into the library to sit and enjoy his pie.


	5. “Another One Bites the Dust”

Dean was pouring himself a cup of coffee when Jessica wandered into the kitchen the next morning. He was wearing the old, grey bathrobe he had on the other morning and grandpa slippers that matched the set she had found in her bedroom dresser when she first put her clothes away. They must have been Men of Letters standard issue or something. Somehow, he still looked hot, even if the slippers were a little goofy. “Good morning,” she greeted him on her way to the fridge.

He turned in her direction with a surly, “Morning,” as he took a sip from his mug.

So, he wasn’t letting his guard down yet. It seemed the sweet approach wasn’t going to win him over anytime soon. Perhaps she should start dishing the sass right back.

“Is there any pie left?” Jessica asked, already knowing the answer judging by the empty pie plate she saw sitting in front of him on the table as she walked in.

Dean’s face went slack as he quickly pulled the empty plate off the table and shoved it on the shelf behind him out of view. “Um, no?”

“Did you eat it all?!” Jessica sighed, doing her best not to let him know she was teasing him, “You know I made that for all of us. Did Sam get any at least?”

His mouth opened and closed again, and then he gave up and turned to walk out of the room feeling guilty.

As he walked away he could hear her amused laughter. So she was toying with him. This girl was starting to grow on him a bit. Dean turned the corner and entered the War Room just in time to see Sam furiously washing something out of the sink along the far wall. “What’s up with you?” he asked suspicion painting his face.

“Nothing,” Sam replied as if he hadn’t just spit up blood into the sink, “Why?”

Dean wasn’t buying it, but decided to drop it for now. “Heard from Kevin?”

Sam paused for a minute before replying as he watched his brother stroll over to the table and have a seat. “Uh, no. Nothing yet.”

“What’s it been like three weeks?” Dean complained, “What’s taking that little Brainiac so long? It’s a book, read it!”

“Just a guess but, translating an ancient language with zero help might be more difficult than we think.”

“So no word from Cas, Kevin’s taking his sweet little time, and you’re acting cagey,” Dean summed up. “We need a lead before I start climbing these walls.”

“Well, uh,” Sam cleared his throat as he picked up the newspaper sitting on the table, “in that case I can give you zombies.” He tossed the paper down in front of his brother.

Dean picked it up and looked at Sam skeptically before examine the front page headline.

“It’s Prometheus,” Jessica called from the threshold into the room.

“What?” Dean asked churlishly.

“Prometheus, not zombies,” she repeated as she slapped down the three dossiers she had typed up on the players in this case.

Sam looked up at her, trying to remember, “Wait, you said something about this before right?”

“Yup. It’s the last episode I saw before I mysteriously woke up here.”

“Great,” Dean groused unamused, “what’s all this?” He picked up the folders and waited expectantly for an answer.

“Dossiers on Prometheus, Zeus, and Artemis,” Jessica replied, “I thought they might come in handy.”

Sam smiled approvingly, “When did you do all this?”

“I had to have something to do while you guys were away dealing with James. I figured if you knew what I did, the case would be a breeze.”

Dean smirked, “Well if you know so much why can’t you just tell us where to find this guy and how to kill him?”

“Dude, what is your problem?” Jessica gave up on being nice, “I’m trying to help you! I don’t’ have all the details, because the show doesn’t go into every little, minute triviality of the lore.”

“See that’s the problem, right there! It’s just a show to you! But to Sam and me, this is life or death!”

“Guys stop!” Sam tried to butt in.

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve seen you both get beat up, die numerous times, go to Hell and back and I’ve cried along with you the whole time!”

Dean scoffed, “Oh so I guess that makes you an expert on hunting right?”

“I never said I was an expert! I’m just trying to do my part!”

“Well don’t! Leave it alone before you get yourself hurt!” Dean shouted back.

“Dean, she’s just trying….” Sam sputtered out before he started to cough. He turned away and hacked for a few seconds without stopping. It sure stopped the argument between Jessica and his brother.

They were both looking over at him concerned. He gave one last whoop before clearing his throat. “I’m good.”

“Sam,” Jessica said, a look of concern, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he responded nonchalantly.

“Really, because I know you’re…”

“I’m cool, really,” he interrupted her so she wouldn’t tell his brother.

“He’s what?” Dean demanded.

Jessica almost spilled about the blood Sam was coughing up, but Dean was already pissed at her and she didn’t want Sam joining him. She stayed silent.

“What is she talking about, Sam?” Dean insisted.

"Nothing. Let’s get back to the case.”

Jessica gave Sam a long, knowing look and Dean didn’t miss it. The subject, however, was dropped in favor of getting a plan together. Dean was game for just leaving this Prometheus guy out of it and going after Zeus to stop the curse, but Jessica mentioned that Prometheus had a son who was suffering from the same thing. Even though she knew from the episode that killing Zeus killed the curse, she was nervous that changing their course that much might cause bigger problems down the road. Sam agreed, time travel was tricky business and even though there was no way to avoid changing some of the details since Jessica was already there, didn’t mean they had to go and mess with the rest of it. It was decided that the boys would work the case just like they normally would, albeit with the research and heads up that Jessica already gave them.

Before long, they were off and Jessica found herself back in the bunker alone. “Great,” she said to herself, her voice echoing off the hard surfaces that surrounded her, “more time to watch the paint dry.”

*****

Around 4 o’clock the next afternoon, Sam and Dean were back with the Titan and his family in tow. The kid, Oliver, was already dead, and all they could do was wait for him to wake up again. Prometheus carried the kid into Dean’s room and laid him down on the bed, everyone crowding around with concerned faces. Jessica noticed that Oliver’s wound was still a mess, so she asked Sam where they kept their first aid kit so she could help clean him up. He told her to go check the last locker to the left in the shower room, and she took off down the hall to collect it, leaving everyone else behind to sort things out. By the time she got back they were all heading into the library to explain what was really going on to Haley, Ollie’s mother. Jessica spent a few minutes cleaning the now dried blood off the kid’s forehead and placing a sterile gauze pad over the cut, taping in down on the edges with medical tape. When she finished, she tucked the boy under Dean’s throw blanket and headed into the library to join the others.

As Jessica walked into the room, Haley was speaking.

“You have to realize, this sounds…crazy!”

Prometheus assured her, “It’s true, I didn’t believe it myself at first, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Look the faster you wrap your brain around this, the faster we can solve the problem,” Dean reasoned with her.

Haley stood up and paced the floor, “Solve the problem, I’m just not even sure I understand the problem.”

“Listen, Haley is it?” Jessica asked, inserting herself into the conversation as she leaned herself up against the art deco column aside the table where Haley was currently sitting, “The Winchesters know what they’re talking about. They’ve saved this world already more times than you can imagine. This is open and shut for them. You just have to trust them.” She looked over at Sam and Dean admiringly.

“And you’re what? Like some kind of psychic right?” Haley asked, even more confused.

Jessica shook her head, “Um, no not…I’m actually…uh…” She really didn’t know how to explain it and Haley was already skeptical. Better not tell her about her multi-dimensional travels.

“Alright,” Dean interjected clapping his hands together, ready to go, “So the way we usually handle this is we summon the bastard, and we work him over until he undoes whatever it is he did.”

“Summon, Zeus?” Haley said with disbelief.

Dean looked her dead in the eye, “Yes.”

Sam and Dean both finished explaining the game plan to a still shell-shocked Haley, and by the time they finished the sound of Oliver coughing caught their ears. Haley excused herself to go check on her son while the rest of them got to work researching how to kill a Greek God. Jessica had some basic idea of what it was they used, but she couldn’t remember the name of the item they needed.

“Well, let’s get at it then,” Dean said.

Jessica helped Sam locate the books she was looking through the other day to create the dossiers, and Dean pulled some spell books to determine how to go about trapping a god as powerful as Zeus. When they all had something to read, Jessica sat down at the table directly across from Dean. For a moment he looked at her with a sigh, mouth hanging open like he was about to say something, but she stared challengingly into his pretty green eyes and he eventually gave up whatever objection he was forming in his head. They hit the books hard for the next hour and forty-five minutes before the breakthrough came.

Dean took a swig of the second tumbler of whiskey he poured himself and turned a page in his book, scanning the text. “Here we go,” he announced; a “Eureka!” moment. 

They all stopped what they were doing. 

“Whatcha got?” Sam asked, exhaustion clear on his face.

“Dragon Penis!” he announced loudly.

Confusion washed over their faces, and Jessica couldn’t help but snicker. Sam looked at her, eyes pleading her not to encourage him.

“What? Dean’s funny sometimes,” she explained.

Dean looked at her and smirked in approval. He thought he was damn funny sometimes too, but he was being serious about this. He went on to explain that there was an ancient hunter named Dracopoulos who figured out a way to trap Zeus. 

It was then that Haley walked back in, and the conversation veered of topic for a moment to check in on Ollie. At Haley’s urging, Dean got back to business. They figured out that they needed fulgurite, the item Jessica couldn’t remember the name of, and the bone of a worshipper. Once they figured it all out, Dean doled out tasks to each of them. Sam and Prometheus were off to a cemetery Sam had located where local pagan worshippers were buried, and Dean and Haley were going to do a little breaking and entering to find some fulgurite.

“You do know that fulgurite is available at crystal shops all over, right?” Haley mused.

Dean tried his best to hide his embarrassment, “Really?”

“Yeah, the new age people, they use it to make cheap jewelry.”

“Hmm,” Dean said, shutting the laptop since apparently it wasn’t needed. He looked like a wounded puppy.

Jessica pushed herself upright off the table she had been leaning against, “How about me?”

“What about you?” Dean asked.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked sincerely, ready to be of service.

Dean looked at her incredulously, “You’re gonna stay put. “

“But…” she tried to protest.

“No.” Dean shut her down.

Jessica’s face fell, and for a fleeting moment Dean looked as if he felt bad that he was so short with her, but he and Haley were out the door faster than she could blink, and Jessica was alone in the bunker again.

Once they were gone, Jessica slumped back into the chair she was sitting in before, folding her arms across the table in front of her and laying her head down on top of them. It wasn’t like she wanted to get in the way or even become a hunter; Hell, she was well aware she probably wouldn’t survive long if she tried, but she felt completely useless just waiting here in the bunker while her boys were off fighting evil. It was like she had an itch she couldn’t scratch, and she couldn’t quite sit still. She kept trying to remember the episode she had seen only days ago to come up with anything else that might help them. Then she remembered about Artemis having a crush on Prometheus, and how it helped Sam convince Artemis to side with them. 

Jessica pulled her new cell phone out of her pocket and texted the number Sam had given her earlier for his phone. His response came back a few minutes later with a thank you, and then it was back to radio silence again. Tapping her fingernails on the hard wooden table, while simultaneously bouncing her knee up and down underneath it, she finally made a decision. She was given a chance to experience what she always wanted to experience. She was in the Winchester’s world, and she didn’t have to be a nobody here like she was back in her own dimension. Quickly, she stood up and walked over to the laptop Dean had left behind. After clicking through a few web pages, she found a nearby shop that sold fulgerite and then watched a Youtube video on how to hotwire a car. With her newfound knowledge, and a quick rummage through the junk drawer in the utility room to find the tools she needed, Jessica slid the credit card Sam gave her and her phone in her jeans pocket, and headed out of the bunker and into town to put her plan in motion.

*****

Jessica’s tip had come in handy, and Sam and Dean were following the goddess Artemis back into the warehouse where Zeus was currently torturing Prometheus and gloating over the fact that his curse had been passed on to the little boy. As far as remorse goes, he obviously had none. Hopefully, with Artemis now on their side, the brothers could gank the god and fix both Prometheus and his son. When they re-entered the warehouse, Zeus was crackling blue lightning between his hands and hovering over Oliver threateningly. Sam nudged Dean away from Artemis and towards Haley and the boy as she pulled her magic arrow and took aim.

“This has to stop father,” she threatened.

“Stop? I’m only just getting started.” Zeus barked back.

During their not so friendly exchange Sam noticed movement in the shadows behind Zeus and quickly alerted Dean. Jessica was crouched down behind a crate, just steps away from the powerful god. Dean’s eyes widened when he saw her. _What the hell is she doing here,_ he thought frantically, _I told her to stay put!_

As Zeus and Artemis continued to argue, Jessica realized that it was now or never, and she ran toward him, brandishing a long stake-like piece of wood.

Before he could stop himself, Dean reacted. “Jess no!” his plea inadvertently bringing her assault to Zeus’s attention. 

The god turned quickly, lightening forking out from his fingers and into her chest, knocking her back a good two feet, her head hitting the concrete floor with a thud. Zeus turned his attention back to the boy, but Artemis let loose one of her arrows. His reaction was quick, and he grabbed ahold of Prometheus, using him as shield; the arrow piercing the Titan’s abdomen just under his rib cage. 

Sam and Dean looked back and forth at each other and the scene in front of them, alarm clear on their faces, when suddenly Prometheus grabbed hold of the arrow sticking out of his body and pushed it clear through himself and into Zeus. With a pain-filled groan and his powerful lightening now spasming around their bodies, the others covered their eyes as the light grew brighter, while Prometheus and Zeus succumbed to the blow. Both lay dead on the floor.

With one last look at each other, Sam and Dean ran to check on Jessica. Dean reached her first and felt for a pulse. It was weak, so he began chest compressions to get her heart jump-started again. “C’mon, don’t die on us!” he ordered as he continued to press down rhythmically on Jessica’s chest. After a count of thirty, he leaned over her, pinching her nose closed and breathing into her mouth. A few rounds later her heart rate picked up and, although woozy, she regained consciousness. Dean pulled her up off the floor and cradled her into his arms in relief. “I’ve got her, go,” he told his brother.

Sam moved back over to where Artemis was saying goodbye to her father and her former lover, who, with a silent understanding, disappeared with Zeus’s body, leaving Prometheus behind for Haley and Oliver to mourn. Once they all took a few moments to take it all in, they made their way back to the Impala and Haley’s minivan which were waiting outside. The car Jessica had hotwired was left behind as they drove off. A short drive and a half hour later, Jessica was sitting in the back of the open minivan with Oliver while Sam, Dean, and Haley gathered materials for Prometheus’s funeral pyre. When everything was ready, Dean lit up the wooden deathbed and stood with Haley as she said her goodbyes to her ex-flame and the father of her child. 

Sam had walked back to stay with Jessica and Oliver, both of whom looked like two wounded puppies. His heart sank as he saw the angelic-faced little boy, a boy who like Sam himself had lost a parent at far too young an age, and his concern only extended when he saw the pained expression on Jessica’s face. She had been through the kind of torment he and his brother have undergone countless times, but this was no doubt the first time it had ever touched her life. Once they made it back to the bunker, he would start looking into a way to get her home. For now, all he could do was offer them both comfort.

He sat down next to Jessica and looked over at her and the boy in silence for a moment before speaking up. “How you holding up, Jess?” he asked.

“I’m sore. The muscles in my neck and back feel raw,” she admitted, “It hurts to breathe.”

“What were you thinking coming in there like that? You could have gotten yourself killed!”

A tear slid down her cheek, “I knew what would happen if everything went the way I remembered. I just thought, maybe, I could save Prometheus. Maybe I could save Ollie’s dad.”

Sam understood that impulse, it was the same impulse he had time after time. But he also knew that impulse could sometimes lead one astray, and that too he understood because of experience.

“Sam?” Jessica began, getting his attention, “Dean’s going to try and send me back to my world now, isnt’ he?”

Sam gave a deep thoughtful sigh, “That’s always been the plan, Jess. Isn’t that what you want?”

“No. I think I want to stay here.”

“Why?” Sam quizzed, not understanding why anyone would choose a world of monsters over a world without.

“I want to stay with you and Dean,” she resolved, “I want to do my part here.”

“Jess, that’s very noble of you, but this isn’t an easy world to live in. You’ve already gotten hurt. Next time it could be much worse.”

Jessica looked up at him, sincerity and tears in her blue eyes, “Please, Sam. I need you on my side here. Don’t let Dean get rid of me. I don’t want to go back.”

Sam’s face pinched with unease as he tried to wrap his head around why she was so adamant about staying, but he decided to leave the matter to another day. She was in pain now, and once they got her back to the bunker they could keep her safe until they figured things out. For now, he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, her head leaning against his side comfortably. He looked down at her resting there and then over to Oliver who was stoically watching the fire burn in the distance. “You know what? How ‘bout we go get some ice cream sundaes?”

“No,” Ollie said resolutely, “I’d like to stay.”

Sam was taken aback by the child’s maturity. This must have been what Dean felt like when he was Ollie’s age. The weight of the world was already on this kid’s shoulders.

The three of them sat there for a long while in silence. Sam gave Ollie a pat on the back, and pulled Jessica closer.

*****

Dean pulled out of the drive-thru at the A&W and headed back on the short drive home. Once he was back on the highway, he pulled out a foil-wrapped burger and handed it to Sam. “Well, here’s to that crazy little wild card called love,” he declared, “How’d you know Artemis had the hots for Prometheus anyway?” He took a sip of his root beer.

“Jessica.” Sam stated simply, “If it hadn’t been for her intel, who knows what would have happened.”

Dean paused a minute, and looked towards the back seat where she was fast asleep. “Huh. Well, it worked. At least the kid’s alright.” He turned his eyes back to the road in front of them and took another sip of his drink.


	6. “Don’t Ask Me No Questions”

It had taken a few weeks for Jessica’s injuries to begin fading. Even still, her muscles were constantly sore, and she had to slack off a bit on cleaning around the bunker. Not that the boys expected her to do anything, but she was still worried she would need to make herself useful to avoid being sent back to her own world. Sam hadn’t mentioned anything about it after the talk they had in the back of Haley’s minivan that night, but Dean was constantly bringing in up. At least he let her be for a few days after the incident before he started to make it his number one priority. Jessica knew Dean Winchester like the back of her hand, and it was almost as if he were possessed the way he was hitting the books, looking for anything that might give them answers on how to send her home. Luckily, he hadn’t found the answer just yet, but Jessica knew it was just a matter of time before he would hit the jackpot. So she did whatever she could to distract him; mentioning the fact that they still hadn’t found Cas usually did the trick, but it never kept him off-task long enough, which is why she mentioned to Sam that they should go through the bunker and see what the Men of Letters had tucked away in their storage rooms. With Sam’s interest peaked, they managed to drag Dean off of dimension hopping research and put him on inventory detail. They had already cleaned out one storage closet, and were taking a break for lunch when the seemingly unavoidable topic came back up.

“After lunch I’m taking a break from all this junk,” Dean complained, “I found another book that might get you home.”

Jessica looked at Sam annoyed, and he returned a look of sympathy. “Dean, can we just drop it? I told you I’m not going anywhere!”

“Like Hell you’re not! You shouldn’t be here, Jess! You almost got yourself killed already!”

Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to avoid another screaming match with the handsome hunter. “Look, I admitted that I acted rashly with the whole Zeus thing. I promise I won’t do anything like that again! Trust me, I’m not looking to feel that kind of pain again.”

“Well the best way to make sure of that is to go back to where you belong,” Dean said matter-of-factly.

“Sam, help me out here?” Jessica pleaded.

“Look, Dean, she doesn’t want to go back. Just leave it be,” he added.

Dean looked even more resolved than ever, “Too bad, I don’t care what she wants! She’s going back!”

“Why do you get to say what I do and don’t do, Dean? Who said that’s your responsibility?”

“I do! You’re going, if I have to drag you back myself,” he assured.

Jessica raised her voice in vexation, “That doesn’t even make sense!”

Sam had had enough of their bickering. It was all he had heard the past few weeks! “Enough you two! Dean, drop it! We’ve got inventory to go through, and we could use her help with it. She stays for now.”

“For now? But, Sam…” Jessica started.

“I said enough, Jess,” he went on, “we’ll figure it out later.”

Jessica started to protest, but Sam’s face made her think twice about it. She didn’t want him to suddenly side with Dean.

Defeated, Jessica sat down across from Dean at the kitchen table and ate her lunch in silence. Dean didn’t say a word either. It stayed just as silent as they got back to their task of rummaging through the next closet full of relics the MOL left behind. 

Dean looked over at Jessica as she was helping Sam add more items to the spread sheet they created to keep track of everything they found. What would make her want to stay here? He didn’t understand why she was so adamant about it. That night in the warehouse Dean had thought they had lost her. She hadn’t been around long, and he knew he was giving her crap for no reason, but the truth was he was actually starting to like Jessica. He knew she had the best intentions, and it wasn’t lost on him that she seemed to be doing everything she could to win him over. It was even working, but he also knew that this was no place for her. She could live a life away from this nightmare; be safe. That’s why he wasn’t going to back down from his decision to send her back, even though a part of him would probably miss her a little bit. 

He went back to opening another box when Jessica looked up and caught him staring.

*****

Later that afternoon, Jessica had to take a break from moving boxes around. She wasn’t back to full capacity yet, and her muscles were starting to spasm. Dean and Sam stayed in the Library and continued to dig through all the junk. 

Perplexed, Dean stared through the glass of a long wooden case, a pointy, knife-like instrument inside. “What the hell is this?” he asked aloud, “The Spear of Destiny? What is this God’s toothpick?”

Sam ignored him, content with looking for a new case.

Dean continued, “Ya know would it have killed these ass hats to label these boxes in something other than hieroglyphics?”

Sam kept ignoring him and Dean went right on talking to himself.

“This is ridiculous,” he mused quietly. Looking over towards his brother, who was tapping away on the keys of his laptop, he called, “Hey! You listening to me?”

Sam looked up, “Yeah! It’s uh…” he cleared his throat, “fascinating stuff. You should probably uh write it all down in your journal for the archives ya know.” He cleared his throat again.

“Yeah thanks. You’re a lot of help.” Dean pronounced distractedly as he examined a red and gold trinket that looked like a Faberge egg. He opened it up and took a whiff, making a weird face. Behind him Sam began coughing uncontrollably. “Hey Doc Holiday, you alright over there?”

Sam looked into the napkin he pulled from his mouth, a red splotch of blood tarnishing the white paper. “Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just uh…” he quickly balled up the napkin and threw it into the wastebasket at his feet, “wrong pipe.” He looked up to see if Dean had noticed, but his brother was back to puzzling over more MOL items. Sam took a sip of his soda and coughed lightly again. He was trying his best to keep his condition after the first trial a secret from Dean. He knew how Dean would react, wanting to keep him from continuing, but he had to do this. He had to get through these trials if it meant shutting down the gates of Hell permanently. Maybe then he and his brother could live a normal life. It’s what he always wanted, and if Dean would ever be honest with himself it was what his brother wanted too, deep down. He glanced up at his brother once more to make sure he didn’t suspect anything, but Dean had already found another distraction.

A smile graced Dean’s face as he looked down at a vintage version of his favorite porno mag. “Well hello!” he said flirtatiously as he thumbed through the pages. “These Men of Letters weren’t so boring after all.” Lost in his own little perverted world, Dean smiled and nodded at a centerfold. “Konichewa! Hey check this out!” He walked down the stairs to join his brother at the table in the war room. 

“Dude what is wrong with you?” Sam chided.

“What’s wrong with me? You’re kidding me? This is a first edition, dude! You know what this would go for on Ebay?”

Sam shook his head, “No. Why do you?”

Dean looked at his brother, lying to cover his embarrassment, “No. Maybe. Shut up. You find anything?” Dean sat down in the chair next to his brother.

As Sam went on and on explaining a new case he had found, bodies popping up all over the mid-west, Dean continued to flip through his magazine. He chimed in eventually, asking how the case was related to what they do and Sam went about explaining the weird circumstances that surrounded the deaths. After laying out all the facts, Dean agreed it was right up their alley.

“I’ll grab my gear, we should probably leave in five,” Sam resolved. He looked reproachfully at his brother, “unless of course you need some more time with Miss October.”

“What?” Dean looked up distracted from his porn, “Oh! Yeah! Yeah, make it ten.” He gave his brother a little smirk, making Sam chuckle as he walked away to get ready.

Dean finally closed the magazine and was about to get up when he noticed something in the garbage can. He picked up the basket to examine the contents, and saw the bloody napkin sitting open on the top of the rest of the papers. A look of concern crossed his face. It was no secret that Sam had been hiding something from him lately, and the way Jessica had been trying to coerce him into telling Dean something earlier only reinforced his suspicions. Now his brother was coughing up blood? He needed to know what was going on, and if Sam didn’t tell him soon, he was going to make Jess tell him.

*****

The boys had left hours ago and Jessica was feeling a lot better after taking some time to rest. Her nerves and her muscles weren’t as jangled, and she was able to return to keeping house in the Winchesters’ absence. Once she cleaned up and ran a few loads of laundry for herself and the guys, she set about finishing up with the artifacts that Sam and Dean had left behind in their hurry to take their latest case. The three of them had already cleaned out two full storage rooms, and Jess and Sam had painstakingly documented and cataloged most of the items, cross-referencing the artifacts with any literature the Men of Letters had in their files. It was a tedious task, so when they had unearthed the third full storage room, everyone’s stamina took a hit. This batch was taking them much longer to get through. Still, it had to be done, and at least it would fill the lonely hours with the boys out saving the world again, so Jessica decided to dig back in.

She had made it through a dozen or so more items when her cell phone rang. _Dean calling…_ flashed across the screen. An unwitting smile crossed her face. Even with all the fighting and his annoyingly insistent notion that she should go back to where she came from, Jessica still had a soft spot for him. He was a pain in the ass, but God when she looked at him she felt like butter in a warm pan. Damn that face of his! And that body, and those eyes…The phone rang again for the third time before she was yanked from her trance. Clearing her throat she touched the answer button and said hello.

Dean’s voice greeted her on the other end of the line, “Hey, what are you doing?”

That voice! Ahem. “I’m working through some of the inventory, trying to get some more done while you guys are out.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t touch anything while we’re gone. There might be something dangerous in there,” he warned.

“I’m fine, Dean. Thank you for your concern. What’s going on?”

Dean needled for a moment, trying to decide if he should push it or not. He resolved to let it go for the now. “Just called to let you know were staying at the Travelier Motel off Route 54. So if you need anything call.”

“Okay, good to know. Thanks.”

There was a moment of silence, the two of them listening to each other breathe, before Dean finally spoke up, “Just be careful, please.”

Was Dean Winchester actually showing some concern for her? Jessica smirked and responded, “I’ll be fine. I promise I won’t get into any trouble while you’re gone. I’ll wait until you get home.”

“That’s not funny,” he chided her, “don’t do anything stupid!”

Ah, that was more like it. Now he was back to his surly self. 

“We’ll check in before we head back,” Dean said before hanging up.

“Well goodbye to you too!” Jessica scoffed before sliding the phone back into her jeans pocket.

She went back to her task, sorting through all the relics the MOL’s had accumulated over the years. After spending a few more hours cataloguing, she decided to stop for the night, but a dusty old book lying under a pile of boxes caught her eye. The writing on the spine was strange looking, and at a certain angle it almost looked as if it glowed. She moved the old junk sitting atop and pulled out the tome, puckering her lips and forcefully blowing some of the dust off the front cover. She opened the book and read the inscription on the first page. It was handwritten in neat script and addressed to someone named Johnny. It read:

“In these pages you shall find,

the answers to questions plaguing your mind. 

Ask them quietly or out loud,

curiosity will lift the shroud.”

“Hmmm,” Jessica pondered as she flipped through some of the pages. It looked like a spell book. Each page was handwritten but it looked as if it weren’t entirely in the same scrawl. Most of the pages in the book were written in what looked like Latin and other ancient-looking characters. Towards the back of the book there were even some written in English. “Interesting,” she proclaimed before creating an entry for it in the database she and Sam had created. She didn’t feel like doing anymore heavy lifting tonight, but maybe she’d sit down with a nice cup of tea and thumb through the book for a bit. Maybe there was something in it that could help them down the road.

The teakettle whistled as Jessica took it off the stovetop and poured the boiling water into a mug. She sunk a green tea bag into it and stirred in a large spoonful of sugar before returning back to the library. As she walked, she blew across the hot liquid and took a timid sip, the water still too hot and burning the tip of her tongue. Deciding to let it cool for a bit, she placed it atop the bookshelf next to one of the well-worn, comfy leather armchairs in the corner and went to grab the spell book off the table where she left it; except it wasn’t quite like she left it. When she went to the kitchen to make her tea she was sure she had closed the book, but now it was open to a page about three-quarters of the way in. She gazed down at it, and the odd characters on the page suddenly morphed into English. “What the hell?” she murmured, examining it closer. “To Anchor Oneself” was the title on the page. 

She continued reading, and realized it was a spell to keep someone on a specific plane. This was exactly what she needed. Dean didn’t seem to be wavering in his decision to send her back to her dimension, but this, this spell looked like it would anchor her here in this world no matter what he tried. She stopped to think for a minute. This could go disastrously wrong if she weren’t careful. She had just promised Dean she wouldn’t get into trouble while they were gone, but what if when they returned, Dean did manage to find a way to send her away? She didn’t want to go. She knew that she wanted to stay here. This spell could prevent it. With a deep breath and a resolve that matched the fervor of Dean’s, Jessica grabbed the book and sat down in her chair to investigate just what exactly she would need to do to get this done.

The spell called for some herbs to be burned, specifically Dragon’s Blood and Wormwood. Jessica believed when she went to the metaphysical store nearby that they had bags of dried herbs on hand. Maybe they would have what she needed. She would also need a black candle for binding her to this realm and she would have to perform the spell inside a drawing of Solomon’s “Fifth Pentacle of the Sun”, which was conveniently included on the page in front of her. It looked a bit complicated, especially because she had no artistic talent to speak of, but she could probably manage to copy the lines if she tried hard enough. The part that made her a little nervous was drawing the binding sigil on her body…with her own blood! She had obviously seen the Winchesters do summoning spells and ritual where they had to cut their hands or arms with a knife to draw blood, but she had already been cut and electrocuted and she wasn’t keen on hurting herself again. If she could get past her squeamishness about that, all that was left was saying the chant in Latin. She might have to research the correct pronunciations first, but that was totally doable. 

Jessica took a deep breath, and decided that she would at least sleep on it. 

When she awoke the next morning she took a walk back to the store where she bought the fulgerite for the ill-fated attack on Zeus, to see about acquiring the items she needed. A little bell rang when she opened the shop door, signaling her arrival. The woman who sold her the fulgerite was busy behind the counter crushing something with a mortar and pestle, but she looked up as Jessica wandered around the tiny boutique searching for the items she needed. 

“Merry meet again!” she cheerily announced, “You haven’t been in since last time. How did your endeavor go?”

Jessica looked up at her as if she were caught shoplifting or something. Not that she would ever do that, but she had a weird feeling being here again. “Not so good,” she replied with a shy smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” the shopkeeper sympathized, “Can I help you find something?”

The list in Jessica’s hand shook a little in her grasp. She still wasn’t quite sure this was a good idea, but if she were going to attempt this she was going to have to get the ingredients before the boys got back. That was probably part of her trepidation; she knew Dean wouldn’t approve and she didn’t want to cause anymore discord between them.

“What is it you are looking for?” the woman asked again.

“Um, just a few items for a spell,” Jessica replied, “here, I need these things.” She handed the list to the woman.

After glancing at the components Jessica was looking for a look of surprise came over the woman’s face. “This looks like some heavy duty binding magic! Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“What do you mean?” Jessica asked.

The woman smiled to ease her jitters, “I just mean that you seem like a novice. Attempting binding magic is tricky. Do you know what you’re doing?”

Jessica cleared her throat. She didn’t really, but she probably shouldn’t let the shopkeeper know that. “Yes, I know what I’m doing. Do you have the items?” She tried to sound confident, but the way the woman smiled a knowing smile made Jessica realize she wasn’t putting anything past her.

“Follow me. I think I can scrounge these up,” the shopkeeper acknowledged.

It only took the woman a few minutes to gather up all the things she needed. 

“That will be $24.56,” the saleswoman declared.

Digging in her pocket, Jessica pulled out the credit card that Sam had given her the first couple of days she had been there and handed it over. 

The woman looked skeptical, but ran the card anyway.

Once the transaction went through, she bagged up the items and handed it over to Jessica. “Good luck with the spell. I hope you get the results you’re after.”

“Thank you,” Jessica responded. It sounded like a warning rather than wish for luck, but she shook it off and walked back to the bunker with her bag of magic in hand.

*****

Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Meg stood over Ann Morten’s bizarre diorama of Lincoln Springs, MO. The bags of dirt hanging above all the places the demons already searched swayed ever so slightly from the current of air created by their movements. Meg examined the table and quickly pointed out the location of the old crypt where they would find the Angel Tablet, but when Sam asked what structure was there now, Meg snidely asked if she “looked like Google”. Both Sam and Dean rolled their eyes, though they shouldn’t have been surprised at Meg’s snarky attitude. This was the same demon that had tried several times, if not unsuccessfully, to kill them and theirs. She wasn’t exactly what you would call trust-worthy, but they did have a common enemy in Crowley, and from what it seemed she was willing to help on this one if only to stick it to the King of Hell.

When Meg left, Sam pulled out his cell to make a call.

“Who are you calling?” Dean queried.

“Jess,” Sam answered as he listened to it ring, “I’m gonna see if she can help me dig up some schematics so we can figure out what we’re looking for.”

Dean objected, “Sam, just leave her out of it. Don’t go dragging her into this mess! She could get hurt!”

Sam shrugged him off, “Dean I think she’ll be okay typing on a computer. Stop being ridiculous.”

“Who’s Jess?” Castiel asked, perplexed.

Dean gave Sam a side-eye before answering, “No one, Cas. Just a friend who’s good with research.” He wasn’t sure what was going on with his best friend lately, but he’d bet money on it not being good. Isn’t that the Winchester luck? Better to leave Jess off Castiel’s radar until they knew what was up with him.

Sam talked to Jessica for a few minutes and then hung up, opening up his laptop and typing away. Dean and Castiel exchanged long looks of distrust, until finally Cas went upstairs to help patch up Meg. 

Once he was out of earshot, Dean huffed, “He lied to us.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I kinda understand why. I mean, an Angel Tablet? The Demon Table can shut the gates of Hell, what can the Angel Tablet do?”

Dean sighed in exasperation, changing the subject, “I still don’t like you involving Jess in this.”

Sam ignored him, which only annoyed him more.

Tense silence was all that stood between the brothers for the next few minutes until Sam’s email dinged, alerting him to a message. He clicked it open and read the message from Jessica. She had added and attachment with the old map of Lincoln Springs overlaying the new map. All Sam had to do was zoom in on the spot in questions and switch over to find the new location. It was so simple, that Sam was kind of embarrassed he didn’t think of it himself. He was really off his game lately.

“Here it goes,” Sam announced.

Dean leaned in over his shoulder.

“Alright,” Sam continued, “according to this the crypt has to be below and abandoned building.

“Good times,” Dean quipped, “Do you really think we can trust Megstiel?”

Sam tilted his head, “No but what choice do we have? At least we know we can trust Jess.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Dean derided. He knew they probably could, but he still found himself playing the part of skeptic. It had started to become a habit. “What did she say she was doing?”

“Just working on cataloging the items we found,” Sam returned, “She’s fine, Dean. C’mon, let’s go.”

Dean watched Sam walk up the basement stairs. “Yeah, I hope so,” he said aloud. 

*****

After Jessica got off the phone with Sam, she went back to working on the last few items in the pile. Partly out of her desire to be useful, and partly out of her guilt for going behind the brother’s backs and setting in motion her plan to subvert Dean’s plan to send her back, she worked tirelessly the rest of that day to get the all of the artifacts catalogued and put away. As she typed the entry for the very last of the Men of Letter’s trinkets, she felt accomplished. Surely this would prove her value to Dean and maybe she wouldn’t even need to do the spell. Even still, she would have to hide the stuff she bought before they got back so as not to raise any suspicions. 

Closing up the laptop, Jessica grabbed the bag she had brought home and headed to the room she now called her own. There wasn’t much by the way of secret places where she could stash the items, so she would have to trust that the guys wouldn’t be rummaging through her dresser drawers anytime soon. It wasn’t like she even had a lot of clothing to camouflage the magical ingredients with. Seriously, she needed to go shopping and get some more clothes! With this in mind, she figured the bottom drawer was much less likely to be opened than the top, and she stuck the candle and the herbs in the backpack she bought in Lawrence and shoved it into the drawer. If she decided not to use them, she could always sneak them onto the spreadsheet and stick them in one of the storage rooms as if they had always been there. Jessica didn’t like being sneaky, it didn’t suit her, but she also had the strongest conviction she ever had in her life. She wasn’t going to leave this place. She wasn’t going to leave her boys.

*****

The road ahead of them was dark; both figuratively and literally. Dean watched the double yellow line disappear past the left front bumper of his beloved Baby. His mind was churning with the same darkness as the asphalt that stretched out in front of him. This case had been anything but open and shut. Cas was seriously not himself anymore. Whoever this Naomi character was, she obviously had Cas under a tight grip. Now he was in the wind with the Angel Tablet.

To add to Dean’s distress, Cas had delivered the news he had been both afraid and eager to hear about his brother. The trials were doing something horrible to Sam. Jessica hinted as much, but she always stopped short of telling him outright. Dean knew she was trying to get Sam to tell him himself, but Sam always had a habit of being less than honest when it came to these matters. He didn’t blame Jess, but he still felt bitter and resentful that he had been kept in the dark, about seemingly everything going on around him. He had had enough!

“So, what happened?” Sam asked, breaking the silence between them, “I mean, Cas touched the tablet and it reset him to his factory settings or something?”

Dean responded sourly, shaking his head, “I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is that he’s off the reservation with a heavenly WMD.” Silence sank in around them again, but Dean needed to let go of all the emotional crap that was swirling around in his head like a tornado. “Listen, man, I can’t take anymore lies,” he said turning to look at his brother, “from anyone.” He gazed sternly, accusingly at his brother.

A look of guilt crossed Sam’s face. He searched for the right words, but he knew that he had been hiding his sickness, or whatever it was that the trials were doing to him, from Dean. Hell, he had been trying to hide them from Jess as well, but he knew she already had an idea of what was going on. His brother always had so much weight on his shoulders that he didn’t want to add to it. What exactly could he say to make any of it right? “Yeah,” he began, “um, I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I-I just wanted to believe I was okay. I don’t know.”

“But you heard what Cas said,” Dean continued angrily, “that that first trial hurt you in ways that even he can’t heal!” Dean sighed and shook his head, softening, “Sammy, I need you to be honest with me from here on out, man. Jess has only been here a few weeks and she seems to be the most honest person in my life right now.”

Sam nodded his head in agreement, “You’re right, and I will be.”

“Listen, I may not be able to carry the burden that comes along with these trials, but I can carry you.”

“You realize you kinda just quoted Lord of the Rings, right?” Sam asked mockingly.

Dean responded vexed, “C’mon, man, that…but it’s the Rudy hobbit, alright, Rudy hobbit always gets a pass!”

Sam chuffed, amused.

“Shudup,” Dean chided, spirits momentarily lifted. He reached down to turn on the radio; “Goodbye Stranger” by Supertramp filled the Impala. 

The brothers continued their drive home in silence.


	7. “How to Disappear Completely”

“Aha!” Dean jumped up in exclamation. He had been hardcore studying the lore books, trying to find anything about how to get Jess home. With all the recent turmoil surrounding him and his brother he figured that was the best thing to do, even if she _was_ starting to feel like family already. It would be a little hard saying goodbye, but it was in her best interest. “I think I found it,” he announced.

“You found what?” Sam asked, half-interested as he scoured the web for a case.

“The ritual, to get her back,” Dean smiled proudly.

Sam looked up from his laptop. “Dean, you know she doesn’t want to go back. Are you really going to force her?”

“It’s not like that,” Dean defended his decision, “I just don’t think this world is a good place for her. It’s too dangerous, and I can’t shake this feeling that something bad is going to happen to her if she stays. I mean, you know our track record! What are the odds this ends well for her?”

“Still, Dean, I don’t think it’s your choice! Besides, she’s been really helpful around here, and I’d kind of miss her.”

“I will too, but c’mon, man! She shouldn’t be cooped up in this bunker doing our chores for the rest of her life. She’s better than that,” Dean argued.

Sam nodded his head. His brother had a point. What kind life could Jessica really have here? It wasn’t like death wasn’t inevitable in their lives. Hell, they’ve both died several times already. One of these days it was going to stick too. What would happen to her then, if he and his brother finally met their ends? She’d be alone, stuck in a world of monsters and death and carnage. He knew she wanted to stay, but was it really what was best for her? Sam put in his two cents, “I agree. But it’s not like we can just do this behind her back. She’s not going to take it very well. She’s already worried that you hate her.”

As Sam was saying his piece, Jessica was turning the corner out of the kitchen with two bowls of homemade chili in her hands. It was a new recipe she wanted to try, and the boys hadn’t eaten lunch yet. She caught the tail end of Sam’s sentence, and knew they were talking about her. Pausing outside the threshold of the war room, she stayed quiet and listened to their conversation.

“I don’t hate her!” Dean dismissed Sam’s concerns, “I just don’t want her to get hurt, or worse! We’ve lost so many people already. I don’t want to add to our ever growing pile of dead friends, and you and I both know she doesn’t belong here. She’d be safe in her world. There’s no monsters, no demons that can threaten her life. Whether she likes it or not she’d be better off.”

“You’d better break it to her gently then,” Sam suggested, “You two have a habit of getting at each other’s throats. Go easy on her will ya?”

"Yeah, it’s probably best not to even mention it to her before we have everything we need. I don’t want her to do anything stupid out of spite.”

_So much for not needing the binding spell_ , Jessica thought as she sighed heavily. Sam seemed to be coming around to Dean’s way of thinking, and with both of them determined to send her back to her dimension she knew it would only be a matter of time. She wasn’t going to ever convince them to let her stay, so she had to take drastic action, even though she would feel really guilty about it. Lying to the Winchesters made her feel dirty, and not in a good way. Plastering a fake smile on her face, she rounded the corner into the war room and made her way up the steps into the library.

"I brought lunch!” she announced cheerily, “It’s a new recipe, so tell me if it’s a keeper or not.”

Dean smiled, gladly accepting the bowl and sitting down as to not waste any time with her request. Sam ruefully stirred the chili around the bowl, distracted by the conversation he just had with his brother. He really did like Jessica, and he knew she really liked them. She had been so helpful up until now, and it was nice having her around the bunker. He didn’t want to upset her, but his brother was undeniably right about this. It was probably for the best.

“Oh my God! This is amazing!” Dean rejoiced as he shoveled the chili into his mouth.

“So it’s a keeper?”

“Uh huh,” he managed to garble through a full mouth.

Jessica turned to Sam, “I can’t get your opinion if you don’t try it, Sam.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he took a bite and nodded enthusiastically, “it’s good.”

“Great! Cause I made a ton! I’ll pack some for the road and freeze the rest.”

Dean continued to shovel it in, “Mmm, mm hmm…wai wha?” He swallowed. “Whatta you mean for the road?”

Jessica walked around the corner into the war room, when she returned she was holding a newspaper. “I found this in the paper this morning, sounded weird.” She slapped page 8 of the Star Chronical down in front of Dean. 

He picked up the paper in one hand, while continuing to stuff his face with the other. The bowl of chili was almost empty. “Hmm?” he grunted, “Yeah, sounds like us.”

Jessica smiled, obviously proud of her find. It was almost like she was getting the hang of this hunting thing. Well, the research part anyway. “It’s only about three or so hours south of here. I figured it might be a quick open and shut case.” And it would be just enough time to do the binding spell. She wasn’t taking any chances now that Sam seemed to be on Team Dean.

The spoon clanked around the bowl as Dean discarded it, chili officially devoured. “Yeah, I could use a hunt. We’ll check it out.” 

“Okay, I’ll go get you some food packed for the road while you two get ready,” Jessica offered enthusiastically as she bounded down the stairs and back towards the kitchen.

Dean pushed back in his chair to stand up, “Alright, meet you back here in five. Gotta go pack.”

“Wait, Dean,” Sam stopped him, a look of concern on his face, “Did Jessica seem a bit off to you?”

Dean looked at him, confused.

“Like she was really excited to get rid of us or something?” Sam prodded further.

“What are you talking about?” Dean dismissed him, “She’s never excited when we leave. She’s always whining about how bored she is when we’re gone.”

“Exactly, she seemed a little too eager to get us on the road.”

Dean scoffed, “I know what this is about.”

“What?”

“Your mad she’s out-geeking you,” Dean responded, raising is eyebrows accusingly.

“What?!” Sam said again, incredulously.

“You’ve been looking for a case all day and you haven’t found jack! Jessica just one-upped you and you’re bitter about it.”

Sam made his best bitch face, “That’s ridiculous, Dean. I just think she seemed like she was pushing us out the door for some reason.”

Dean chuckled throatily, “You’re jealous. Let’s go.” He walked away from his brother laughing to himself.

“Dean!” Sam began, but gave up the argument with a sigh. His brother could be really frustrating sometimes. He wasn’t kidding. He did think Jess was a little off. Maybe he was overreacting, but something didn’t seem right about it. 

Once Sam and Dean were all packed up, Jessica helped Dean lift a cooler full of beer and extra chili into Baby’s backseat, and handed each of them a bag with other assorted goodies for the road: beef jerky for Dean and apples and bananas for Sam. Dean sniggered at the fruit before getting into the driver’s seat and revving the engine, signaling to his brother that he was more than ready to get a move on. 

“You’re gonna be alright while we’re gone, right?” Sam asked Jessica with concern.

She smiled up at him, “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just…just be safe okay?” he requested, still unable to put his finger on the bad feeling he had.

“Always,” she responded, giving him a quick hug.

Dean began laying on the horn to get Sam’s attention.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming! Geez!”

Jessica stepped back and watched the guys drive away down the hill. She waited until she could hear the engine grumble off into the distance before heading back inside. 

After cleaning up a bit in the kitchen from her chili experiment, Jessica went into her bedroom to gather the items she picked up for the binding spell. She was going to have to jump right in and make sure it got done before Sam and Dean got back. Besides, if something went wrong she’d have some time to fix it. Loading the contents she needed into a bag, she carried everything at once into the war room. It took a few minutes to move the heavy table out of the center of the room, but she needed a large enough space to draw the Fifth Pentacle of the Sun so she could stand in the center to perform the ritual. Once the space was cleared, Jessica got to work with her drawing, using the spell book as a reference to copy the exact design, as best she could, in chalk on the slate tiles. When she finished, she stood back to survey what she had done. It looked just like the illustration in the book. Satisfied, she began laying out all the other ingredients she would need: the bowl to burn the herbs lay in the center of the pentacle, the black candle directly behind it and easily in reach so she could light it, a small paintbrush to paint the sigil on her skin, and a double edged blade to draw the blood she would need. Everything was there and ready to go.

With a deep breath, she consulted the spell book one last time before she began. She layered the wormwood and dragon’s blood resin in the bowl then lit the candle to start the spell. It was time for the worst part of it. With her right hand she lifted up the heavy blade, placing it in her left, and with clenched teeth she squeezed and dragged the edge across and away, leaving an open gash behind. “Ow, ow, ow,” she said as she let the blood pour from her hand into the bowl of herbs below. That hurt way more than she imagined it would! _How do Sam and Dean do this all the time with a straight face?_ Jessica thought. Once she was satisfied that enough blood had filled the bowl, she wrapped her hand tight with the gauze she had anticipated she’d need to start stemming the blood flow. 

Jessica stirred the blood and herbs until they were mixed and then dipped the paint brush into it and began the tricky task of painting on the sigil. She wanted to put it somewhere that she could easily hide it from the Winchesters, as it wasn’t very inconspicuous. They would know right away something was up if they saw the thing. With that in mind she decided on her hip, just below the waistband of her jeans where it would be easily out of sight. She unbuttoned her pants and folded over the waist to expose the bit of skin below. Carefully, she copied the lines of the binding sigil onto her skin, dipping the paintbrush back into the blood mixture when she needed more. It wasn’t an easy task since she had to paint it on upside down so it would be positioned right-side-up on her body. After a few minutes she was satisfied that it was right and she dropped the paint brush to the ground next to the bowl of herbs. 

Taking the matchbook she used to light the candle back out of her pocket, she struck a match and began the chant she memorized from the book:

"Invocato spirituum ad petendum: et ex hoc potentiam tuam repellit.

Anchor a me in hoc loco.

Me tantum mortem posse dimittere!"

Once the words were spoken she dropped the match into the herbs and a large flame erupted. Jessica dropped to her knees simultaneously as the sigil began to sear into her skin. She wailed in anguish as the blood burned into her, leaving a brand behind. It was worse than the lightning strike from Zeus! At least then she had blacked out! Squeezing her eyes tight, the tears spilled from the corners as she held onto her hip without any relief. After a few moments the pain subsided and she continued to lay there in the center of the seal just trying to regulate her breathing. She hoped to God it worked, because she would never attempt to do something like this again! After lying there for a while, she made sure she disposed of the all evidence of her transgression and scrubbed the pentacle from the slate floor.

Jessica woke up the next morning still exhausted from the day before. All day long the sigil had sent shockwaves of fiery torture through her body, and by the time she went to bed the night before she was both physically and mentally drained. Although it seemed that the burning had stopped now, she couldn’t seem to regain her energy. The spell packed a powerful punch and she wasn’t sure how long it was going to affect her. The rest of the day she shuffled listlessly through the bunker, almost glad that the boys were away. They would definitely know something was amiss if they saw her like this.

When she didn’t hear from them by dinnertime, she texted Sam and went about heating up a bowl of leftover chili for herself. By the time she finished eating he still hadn’t texted her back and a part her started to get worried. She told herself that they were probably just busy with a witness or killing whatever monster-of-the-week they were hunting, but still, she felt tense and uneasy. Chalking it up to how odd she was feeling, she resolved to do some digging in the Men of Letters files to see if she could find any information about these trials Sam was undertaking. It was a long shot, but maybe there was a way to help him get through them a little easier.

It was midnight before her phone chirped and Sam texted her back. Apparently they had gotten into a bind and Sam was a little tied up, literally, when she tried to contact him before. All was well now, but they were going to wait until morning to head back home. They had to cure a new vampire before she fed and that would take all night. _Well if they’re going to be up all night, I might as well join them,_ Jessica thought, so she headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. She was still feeling pretty sluggish from the spell the day before and she wanted to get through the last stack of folders she pulled up earlier. She might be able to rest easier if she knew she could help Sam, plus it might assuage her guilt for going behind the brothers’ backs.

*****

When Sam and Dean arrived home the next morning, Jessica had breakfast waiting for them. They rolled in around ten o’clock and apparently Dean was grumpy the whole ride home because Sam wouldn’t let him stop for food. His mood cleared up as soon has she put a plate full of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast in front of him. He thanked her and then tucked into his meal without saying another word. While they all ate, Sam filled her in on what went down in Conway Springs. The meal was a pleasant break from all the work, fighting, and problems of the past few weeks, but when they all began to clean up, Dean brought all of the conviviality to an abrupt halt with his admission that he had found a way to send Jessica home.

The room went silent. Sam looked at him disapprovingly. That was not the best time to bring it up. His brother could be brain-dead sometimes.

Jessica stayed quiet for a moment, before responding. “Well, if you don’t want me around, then I guess I don’t have a choice.”

Dean winced a little at her response, it being equally sad and unnervingly agreeable. He thought she was going to put up more of a fight. It seems she just took it as if he wanted to get rid of her, which wasn’t the case at all. Before he could express that, Sam did it for him.

“Jess, it isn’t that we don’t want you here, it’s just that we think it would be better if you… if you weren’t stuck in this place. It’s dangerous here, and we care about you. We want you to live the life you deserve.”

Dean chimed in, “You deserve better than playing housekeeper to the likes of us.”

Jessica looked back and forth between the two. If the binding spell worked the way it was supposed to, then she had nothing to worry about. Still, it hurt a little that they were both in agreement on this. She loved them. She knew it was crazy, but she kinda loved them before she even knew they were real, and now that they were standing right in front of her the idea that they didn’t want her here was excruciating. “Okay, I get it. What do we have to do?”

Dean explained the ritual, and they all agreed that they would do it that afternoon. 

Jessica went to her room and put all of her stuff away neatly. Even though she was sure she’d be staying, just going through the motions made her feel a little melancholy. When she composed herself she walked back to the library where Sam was sitting, looking through the book Dean had found the spell in. She sat across from him forlornly. 

“Hey,” he said, not knowing what to say to make her feel better.

“Hey,” she said back, not really knowing what to say to him either.

There was a long, awkward silence before Sam spoke again. “Dean went to get the supplies we need. He’ll be back soon.”

Jessica nodded, “Okay.”

“Jess, listen, I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to leave, but we think it’s for the best.”

“Yeah, I noticed you joined Team Dean on this one.”

Sam sighed, “It’s not like that, Jess. We both care about you, that’s all. We just want you to live a happy life. This is not the place for that.”

“I’m happy here with you guys,” Jessica said in a last minute attempt to gain Sam’s loyalty back.

“You’ll see, it’ll be better,” Sam responded, not letting her break his resolve.

They two of them sat their together in silence until Dean got back. 

The heavy iron door scraping against the floor when Dean walked back into the bunker, echoed off the walls like thunder signaling some impending doom. Jess watched as he stepped down the stairs holding a large paper bag in his hand. The logo of the little metaphysical shop in town graced the side of the bag, the same shop she bought her supplies from earlier that week. 

Dean made his way across the war room to meet them in the library. “Hey,” he said, clearly feeling the same awkwardness that Sam and Jess had felt just moments ago. “I got the stuff. You ready?”

Jessica looked at Sam with pleading eyes, trying to convince him to switch sides again, but Sam just looked down at the table and kept his mouth shut. She didn’t know why she was so worried, most likely it wasn’t going to work anyway. Still, she couldn’t escape the thoughts of self-doubt that were plaguing her mind. What if she did the spell wrong? What if they did succeed? With Sam doing his best to avoid her, she turned her pleading eyes up at Dean. For a moment she thought she saw him flinch, but he quickly composed himself.

“You ready, Jess?” he asked again.

“No, but I guess you guys aren’t giving me a choice,” she replied. 

Jessica stood up and Dean took that as a sign to start setting everything up. When he had finished, Sam joined him and they stood across from her, their faces seemingly conflicted. She knew in that moment that this was hard for them too. “I’ll miss you guys,” she said.

“We’ll miss you too,” Sam dittoed.

Jessica took a deep breath and stepped forward, reaching up and standing on her tip-toes to wrap her arms around Sam’s neck.

He met her halfway and squeezed gently, “It’ll be okay, promise.”

She smiled up at him when she pulled away, but when she looked over at Dean her smile faltered. She swallowed the lump in her throat and just stood looking up at him.

He motioned for her to come over and she fell into him, locking her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest.

Dean was taken aback by the urgency in her embrace, but he held her close. He suddenly felt like maybe this was a mistake, but he knew in his heart it was what was best. It seemed like she would never let go, but finally he felt her unwind herself from his grasp.

With another deep, regulating breath, Jessica stepped back from the brothers and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. _I have nothing to worry about, it’s not going to work anyway,_ she thought, but it still felt too much like a goodbye. “I…I kinda love you guys,” she admitted, sheepishly.

They smiled down at her. “Ditto,” Dean confessed.

Hearing him say that made the moment feel even sadder, and she silently prayed that her binding spell had worked. Even though they spent most of their time bickering since she found them, Dean just admitted that he did care for her. It’s all she wanted to hear since they met, and now he was telling her as he was saying goodbye! 

It only took a few minutes for Dean to work the spell and say the incantation. The whole while, Jessica stood there staring up at her boys with her fingers crossed behind her back, hoping that she hadn’t botched the binding spell. With a final nod and wink goodbye, Dean finished the spell by tossing the last handful of herbs into the fire, causing the flame to erupt into bright sparks. Jessica closed her eyes and braced herself for whatever was going to happen. She stood there, eyes clenched, waiting to feel something different, afraid to open them. When she did she breathed a sigh of relief. Sam and Dean still stood before her, stunned looks on their faces. She didn’t want to betray her secret, but she couldn’t help but crack a smile. It had worked! She couldn’t go back!

“I guess that’s it,” Sam said, looking over at his brother.

“Yeah,” Dean replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. 

Jessica looked at them confused, “What are you talking about, Dean? Aren’t you even surprised it didn’t work?”

“I’m gonna go read for a little bit,” Sam continued their conversation, “Do you want me to help clean this up first?”

“No, I’ve got it,” Dean replied. “Sam?”

“What?”

“Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Sam thought for a second and nodded, “Yeah, she’ll be fine.” He patted his brother on the shoulder reassuringly and then headed out the door towards his room.

Dean sighed and nodded his head hoping his brother was right and cleaned up the tools they used for the spell.

“Ha, ha,” Jessica mocked, “you guys are hilarious! Do you want some help with that?”

It seemed as if Dean was ignoring her.

“Hey, c’mon this isn’t funny! I got all sad and worried and for nothing, and it’s like you knew it wouldn’t work!”

Dean continued to pick up all the supplies he used and then turned to walk away.

Jessica reached out to grab his shoulder. “Hey!” she complained, as she reached out for him. Her hand went right through his shoulder.

Dean stopped for a second, looking behind him curiously. “Hmm?” he muttered, and then shrugged, walking through the threshold of the war room and disappearing into the hallway.

“What the hell?” Jessica questioned, as she looked at her hand. It was as solid as it should be, so what just happened? Turning around she reached over the table to pull the chain on the lamp, but her fingers slipped right through the metal. Panicked, she tried again, but she couldn’t grab it. “Oh my God! What’s going on?” She ran into the hallway and caught up to Dean, trying once again to grab his arm, but it was as if he were made of nothing but air! “Dean? Can you hear me?” she called, “DEAN!!!”

Dean continued walking, turning the corner into his room and shutting his door.


	8. "See You on the Other Side"

_3 Days, 12 hours, 37 Minutes, 12 Seconds_

Jessica sat with her knees pulled into her chest in the hallway across from room 21 sobbing. She had spent days trying to communicate in some way with the Winchesters to no avail. Dean couldn’t hear her, Sam couldn’t hear her, and try as she might she couldn’t figure out how to manipulate anything in the bunker, not with her hands and not with her mind. She even tried praying to Castiel, but why would he answer her prayer? Cas was currently in the wind with the Angel Tablet, and he never even met her. He didn’t even respond when she said that Dean was in danger. She thought for sure that would work, but still nothing. To make things worse, her ethereal body was still subject to the very tangible feelings of thirst and hunger, neither of which she was able to slake. Her stomach had stopped grumbling yesterday, now she was just nauseated and spent long moments dry heaving, her muscles spasming and racking her body with pain. Even if she could manage to eat she was sure she couldn’t swallow, as her mouth felt like it was full of sand. The sting in her lips from trying to lick some moisture into them was starting to irritate her, and she was physically exhausted.

Needless to say, the binding spell worked, but it hadn’t come with a magical side effect warning. Whatever ritual Dean had done was affecting her own and in the worst way possible. She was bound to this place alright, but now she was invisible, she didn’t know how to make contact with Sam or Dean, and she was pretty sure that this was going to be the end for her. To add to everything else, crying was making her feel dizzy.

Jessica sniffed and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She knew she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, but she didn’t know what else to do. Just drawing her hand up to her face felt like trying to move a mountain. “C’mon Jessica,” she began giving herself a little pep talk, “you can’t give up. You have to keep trying.” Brushing the last tear from her face, she steadied herself on the tile wall behind her and stood. Earlier, she tried to grab Dean’s shoulder and her hand went right through, the same when she tried to manipulate everything else since. If her hand could go through objects, could she walk through doors or walls too? Jessica braced herself and decided it couldn’t hurt to try. With a bit of trepidation, and as much strength as she could muster, she closed the distance between the wall and Sam’s bedroom door and only paused briefly before forcibly pushing her way through it. It felt strange, like walking through gelatin, but it worked! She was inside his bedroom now! 

The room was dark; the only light coming from the metal vent on the bottom of the door, which softly illuminated Sam’s sleeping face and the brick wall behind the bed. “Sam?” Jessica tried to wake him, her voice weak and grainy. Why she thought it would work this time she wasn’t sure, but hey, she tried. 

Sam kept up his light snoring.

Jessica had to find a way to make noise somehow, alert him that something was wrong, that her presence was still there. She looked around the room for things that might wake him: his laptop, the television, the alarm clock next to his bed. The problem was every time she tried to touch them, her hand just slid right on through. Ghosts could manipulate things, she knew there had to be a way, but she couldn’t figure out how they did it. With deep concentration, Jess spent the next twenty minutes silently focusing her energy on each item and trying in vain to make contact. Then with a frustrated groan she swiped her hand violently at the alarm clock, sending it flying into the opposite wall with a crash.

*****

Sam sat up alarmed, breathing heavily and looking both sleepy and confused. It took him a minute to find the source of the noise that startled him awake. His face was awash with suspicion as he slowly peeled back the covers and padded barefoot over to where his alarm clock lay smashed to pieces on the tile floor. He bent down and fingered the broken plastic, face screwed up in puzzlement. “What the hell?”

He stood back up slowly and surveyed the darkened room. There was nobody there. Sam blew out a puff of breath, but it wasn’t visible, and the room temperature felt normal. Just to be sure, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out one of his brother’s homemade EMF meters and clicked it on. There was no reaction. No spirits in the room. What had caused the clock to go flying? Did he accidentally knock it off in his sleep? It had to be done with some force to make it go that far. “Hmm?” he hummed aloud, picking up the broken alarm and tossing the pieces into the trash bin next to the desk.

Stretching with a yawn, Sam checked the time on his cell phone screen. It was only two hours before he would normally get up, and he wasn’t that tired, so he made his bed and went for his morning run. When he got back he showered and made a pot of coffee for himself and his brother. As he looked in the fridge to find something to eat, he thought about Jess. Normally, she would’ve been in here to greet him, egg white omelet or breakfast smoothie waiting for him, eggs, bacon and sausage, hash browns and toast or even pancakes waiting for Dean. She always went all out to take care of them. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Hopefully wherever she was, she was safe and happy. Settling on a bowl of cereal, Sam grabbed the milk and poured it into his bowl of Corn Flakes, returning the carton to the refrigerator before taking a seat at the table and tucking in.

He was halfway done with both his breakfast and the morning paper when Dean made his appearance. He looked a little disheveled like he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before

“Hey man, you go out last night or something?” Sam asked before spooning his last bite of cereal into his mouth.

Dean stumbled over to pour himself a cup of coffee, only managing to get half a cup out of what Sam had apparently left him. He grumbled to himself before answering, “No. I just didn’t sleep very well.” He sat down across from his brother and sipped on his much needed morning caffeine. “You find a case or something?”

Sam shook his head, “No, nothing interesting so far."

Dean grunted again with a shrug and took another sip. Something was weighing on him. It took him a few seconds to really process his thoughts, but he finally elaborated. “I have this weird feeling I can’t shake. Like something’s wrong.”

Sam looked up from his paper and at his brother, “Like what?”

Dean took the last, long swig of his coffee. “I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. Something is just…off. Last night I could have sworn I kept running into cold spots, but I checked EMF and nothing. I mean, if the bunker is haunted, I think we would have figured that out by now, but…I don’t know maybe I’m just imagining things.”

Sam chuffed, the corners of his mouth turning up in amusement, “So get this, I woke up this morning around 4:30 to the sound of my alarm clock hitting the wall across from my bed!”

“What? Like if flew across the room?”

“Oh yeah, broken into a million pieces. I ran EMF too…nothing!”

Dean, more alert now, tilted his head and squinted his eyes, “Yeah, that’s weird.”

“Right?” Sam agreed, “Cold spots, objects flying around the room on their own, I’d say something is going on here.”

“Looks like you can put that paper away, Sammy. I think we’ve got ourselves a case right here.”

_4 Days, 23 Hours, 42 minutes, 36 seconds_

Jessica sat slumped against the wall in the library as Sam and Dean were digging into the Men of Letters files to determine whether or not the bunker had experienced strange phenomenon before. She could’ve saved them the tediousness of reading all those documents if she could only find a way to communicate with them, but at the present moment she was too tired to even sit up properly. Her calf muscles were cramping up intermittently, so she had to keep flexing her feet to stretch them. She could hear her heartbeat thumping away like the paws of a cheetah pounding against the dried, scorched-earth of the African plains as it pursued its prey; it felt almost as deadly. Her tongue felt strange in her mouth, like a shriveled-up prune, only it was made of lead. The dizziness she felt earlier had subsided momentarily, but she kept having bouts of vertigo when she tried to stand up. She decided it was best just to stay seated for the moment.

Dean had slammed another book closed in frustration. “I don’t know, Sam, I don’t think we’re going to find anything here. Maybe we’re just imagining things.”

“I didn’t imaging my clock flying across the room, Dean.”

“Well, maybe you knocked it off yourself with your gigantic arms, like you said!” he grinned.

Sam shook his head, “No, I don’t think so. There’s got to be something…”

“Well, I’m taking a break. Nothing’s happened since this morning, and I can’t read through any more of this British drivel. I’ll be in my room.”

Jessica watched as Dean walked off. _No,_ she thought, _don’t give up! You can’t! I need you guys to save me! That’s what you do!_

She too watched Sam get discouraged and slam his own book shut. He ran his hand through his long brown hair and leaned back in his chair.

“They can’t give up,” Jessica said aloud, and with a burst of adrenaline, she pushed herself up off the floor and grabbed hold of Sam’s shoulders, shaking them violently.

The chair flew backward into her; literally she was standing in the middle of the seat, her wobbly legs flowing right through the wood to the floor. Sam stood up abruptly. His face was a mask of shock as he turned to see that no one was behind him.

“DEAN!” he shouted for his brother to return. There was definitely something there.

A few quick seconds passed before Dean burst through the threshold of the war room, gun aimed and ready for any trouble he might find. All he saw was Sam, standing a foot from the chair he once occupied, looking like he’d just seen a ghost. “What? What happened?”

“Something just grabbed me.”

Nothing messes with Sammy. “Where?” he asked, scanning the room for the offending spirit.

The shock was draining from Sam’s face and was being replaced by confusion. “There were hands on my shoulders, it shook me, but it didn’t feel cold. They were warm hands. What kind of spirit is this?”

“I don’t know,” Dean replied, then shouted, “but you better keep your hands off my brother!”

Jessica looked down at her hands. She made contact! She had to try it again!

Stepping out of the wooden library chair, she made her way over to Dean. _Okay, concentrate,_ she thought to herself before reaching out and trying to grab his shoulder. Her hand slid through again, and Dean shivered involuntarily. 

“I just felt another cold spot,” he announced, slowly scanning the room, trying to locate the ghost or whatever it was.

“Uggggggh!” Jessica exclaimed with frustration, and tried again, her hand sliding through once more. “This is useless!” A tear of frustration began to fall, she began to sway dizzily from her exertions and her vision became fuzzy. Before she could catch herself, she pitched forward towards the ground, but instead of the hardwood floor, her body hit something warm and solid, keeping her upright. She was leaning into Dean’s chest. She could feel him breathing!

“Whoa!” Dean said startled, backing away. But Jessica, reveling in the moment of contact, wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight, afraid of losing contact again.

“Sam, something’s…hugging me?” Dean said perplexed. “It’s warm, like you said.”

Sam’s face was awash in confusion, “It’s hugging you?”

“I think so,” Dean replied, confused, his face contorting into horror, “Get it off me!” 

The two boys stood there and stared dumbfounded at each other, not knowing how to respond.

Just as suddenly as he had felt the sensation, the warmth turned to ice, passing through him and out behind him.

Jessica fell forward and down to the floor. “Dammit!” She yelled! She had him and lost him! Her strength was waning and she couldn’t bring herself to get up off the floor. Instead she lay there crying again in defeat. They though she was a ghost! She was never going to make it!

“It’s gone,” Dean proclaimed, “What the Hell, Sammy?”

“I don’t know! It’s bizarre! What kind of ghost is this?”

Dean huffed, “Well we better figure it out before it gets even more handsy. It’s creeping me out!”

_5 Days, 3 Hours, 15 Minutes, 7 Seconds_

Sam and Dean stayed up all night trying to figure out what exactly was going on. They had dug through some of the Men of Letters archives to see if there was any mention of an affectionate ghost that roamed the halls here. Nothing, of course, turned up and they both agreed that the notion was crazy anyway. The experiences weren’t like the ones they’ve encountered before with a typical spirit. There was still no EMF registering and the fact that both of them felt warmth coming from it was beyond strange. But after pulling an all-nighter and pouring through dozens of books and files, and even more cups of coffee, they were left with more questions than answers.

“Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong,” Sam chirped up, “Maybe instead of research we need to use some kind of magick to figure this out.”

“Great, a whole new set of books to look through,” Dean complained, and buried his face in his hands, exhausted.

“We know there are spells to summon spirits and demons, right?” Sam continued, ignoring Dean’s complaint, “But, we already know there is something here. Maybe we need a communication spell or something to make contact.”

Dean looked up, “Yeah, but usually we have to, ya know, know who or what it is we want to communicate with. I don’t think ‘gropey ghost’ is going to be accurate enough.”

Sam thought for a second, “You know what, let me search the database Jess put together for us. Maybe she stumbled upon something we could use here.”

“Oh, right, like that’s going to happen! When does anything ever come easy to…”

“Look at this!” Sam grinned, turning his laptop towards his brother, “Line 410: Spellbook for Finding What You Need.”

Sam swung the laptop back around to see where Jessica stashed it. It was a great idea to catalog all the stuff they found. It made it so much easier to locate things when they needed them. His long finger ran along the spines of the old books on the shelf indicated by the spreadsheet until he found the book in questions. When he brought it back to the table, he read the inscription on the first page aloud:

“In these pages you shall find,

the answers to questions plaguing your mind. 

Ask them quietly or out loud,

curiosity will lift the shroud.”

Dean looked skeptically at the book and began thumbing through it. “What kind of language is this? Klingon? How’s that supposed to help?”

“Wait, Dean, look!” On the page that Dean left open, words began to form.

Sam read them as they revealed themselves, “To See the Unseen.”

“Well would you look at that?” Dean marveled; all cynicism dropped in an instant.

Sam smiled at him before setting off to find what they needed.

_5 Days, 6 Hours, 45 Minutes, 3 Seconds_

Most of what they needed was already in their stores in the bunker. Dean made a run to the local metaphysical shop for the rest. He had returned a few minutes earlier and the spell was set up and ready to go. A few lines of Latin, the light of a match, and a giant puff of smoke and the boys were scanning the library for any sign of Casper the Grabby Ghost. At first nothing seemed to appear, but slowly a figure materialized huddled up, face down on the floor near the entrance to the library.

Sam took a tentative step toward it, while Dean popped a salt round into the chamber of his sawed-off.

“Jessica?” Sam asked, astonished as he got close enough to recognize her.

“What?” Dean softened, and took a step closer himself.

Jess barely lifted her head to look up at the Winchesters who towered over her. Her face was pale except for the dark circles under her eyes. Her lips were cracked and seemed to stick together as she tried to speak, her throat so dry she thought it would be impossible. With weak arms, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Acid rose up in her throat, her chest burning from the sensation. She barely gurgled out a response, “You c-can s-see?” she asked, doubtful that she had finally gotten lucky.

Sam got closer, crouching down next to her and reaching a hand to her shoulder, but it slipped right through. “What the hell?”

“I’ve been t-trying to g-get your attention for days!” she said, “I’m stuck somehow. I c-couldn’t reach you. I c-couldn’t figure out how.”

“The clock?” Sam asked.

Jessica nodded weakly, she wasn’t even sure Sam could see it. 

“What happened?” Sam asked, looking to Dean, “Did we botch the spell somehow?”

Jess sighed shallowly, knowing she had to reveal what she had done. She was the one who botched it. “N-no, it wasn’t you. It’s was this,” she announced wearily as she slowly lifted the hem of her shirt up to reveal the sigil on her hip.

The Winchesters stared perplexed.

“Is that…a binding sigil?” Sam asked; always the brainiac.

Jessica didn’t confirm. Instead, she looked down at the floor sheepishly. She had hated lying to the boys, and she was fully aware that she was in this mess because of it.

Dean’s face soured, “Where the hell did that come from?”

“I d-did it,” Jess admitted, “You were s-so intent on s-sending me away that I thought I’d b-better get some insurance.”

“What were you thinking?” Dean chided as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 

“Dean, stop,” Sam said trying to stay rational, “How did it get there? What did you do?”

“The spell b-book,” she gestured towards the open book on the table next to them, “it revealed a spell to anchor me here,t- to this w-world.”

“When did you do this?” Sam asked concerned.

“While you guys were in C-Conway S-Springs helping K-Krissy.”

Sam’s face screwed up in consternation, “I knew you were up to something. You practically pushed us out the door on that case.”

Jessica tried to stand, but wobbled and fell back down with a thud. “Ow!”

“Are you okay?” Sam tried to help her but gave up in vexation when he couldn’t touch her.

“I’m alright, I’m just a bit d-dizzy,” Jess responded, “and thirsty, and ...” she struggled to continue, giving up and flopping back down in a heap.

“You don’t look good,” Dean added, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.

“Dean it’s been days since we cast that spell, she’s probably dehydrated!” Sam observed, “If we don’t figure out a way to make her corporeal again, she might…” He let his words trail off before finishing his thought. Jessica looked like she was in bad shape, and it was only going to get worse. They thought sending her away would keep her safe, but it only brought her closer to death. They had to get fluids in her, but how could they do that if she kept ghosting through everything?

Finally putting his shotgun down, Dean’s face became awash with resolve. “Then we’ve got work to do.”

_5 Days, 16 Hours, 12 Minutes, 3 Seconds_

“Jessica, stay with us!” Dean yelled at her limp frame, frustrated that he couldn’t touch her and soothe her somehow. “Sam we need to figure this out quick!”

“I’m trying, Dean!” Sam snapped back at his brother. 

They had tried everything they had at their disposal. The book that got her into this predicament in the first place was the first thing they tried, it seemed it would be the easy answer, but as usual there was a price that came with the spell book. When Sam had requested a spell to reverse what had already been cast, the book revealed a message that was more mocking than helpful. Apparently, it wouldn’t undo its own magic. Next they had tried just a basic reversal spell, with exactly the same results…nada. With all the Men of Letters most powerful tomes at their disposal, they were sure they would hit on something, but so far all they got was a lot of nothing, and Jessica’s condition only seemed to be deteriorating more rapidly. They needed to figure it out soon or she was going to die.

“You know we could try Cas,” Sam suggested.  


Dean snatched his cell phone off the nearest table and began scrolling through his contacts. “You think I haven’t already tried that? He’s not listening!”

“Who are you calling?”

“Someone who owes us a favor,” Dean’s face became hopeful when his contact answered the line, “James! It’s Dean. Listen, man, I know that you’re trying to lay low, but we’ve got an emergency here, and we could use your help.”

After explaining the situation, James was unsure of what to do. He told Dean he would check with some contacts that he had, but after what had happened in St. Louis he had more bridges burned than not. He was new at this. He’d have to do some research of his own. “Just get back to us when you can,” Dean replied defeated, “It’s urgent.” He ended the call quickly and groaned. “We need someone who actually knows what they are doing!” Grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, Dean slid it over his shoulders and headed towards the crow’s nest door.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked confused.

“We need a witch, a real one.” His brother responded, “Keep looking here, I’ll be back in a few.”

“You hate witches,” Sam replied.

“Not today.”

_5 Days, 17 Hours, 3 Minutes, 26 Seconds_

When Dean returned he had a witch in tow as promised. It was the woman who ran the local metaphysical shop. She stood over Jessica, who was pretty much unconscious now, and looked up at Sam. “She said she knew what she was doing. I warned her this magick was powerful.”

“You did this to her?!” Dean yelled.

Sam put his hands up to signal to his brother to calm down. “How do we undo it? It’s pretty clear if we don’t she’s going to die.”

“You could try a reversal spell,” the woman suggested, nervously eyeing the shorter one.

“Don’t you think we already thought of that? You’d better get her out of this or so help me…”

“Dean! You’re not helping!” Sam turned back to the witch with his puppy-dog eyes, “What else can we do? Please help us.” 

The witch stared down at the girl on the floor sympathetically and thought. From what she was told, the spell the two hunters performed was to send her to another dimension, and it was obvious the girl had done some kind of binding magick, but without knowing exactly what spell she used it would be difficult to figure out how to reverse it. Time didn’t seem to be a luxury at the moment. The girl looked half-dead already.

“We could try to remove the binding sigil…” she began.

“Great, let’s do it then,” Dean prodded.

“…but,” she continued, “I’m afraid that once it is removed, she’ll disappear into whatever realm you were trying to send her to. She needs medical attention soon, and who knows where she will end up there. She could end up dying anyway without anyone to help her.”

Sam closed his eyes and sighed, “What else can we do?”

“There’s a spell that can remove the magic, but it must be transferred to something else.”

“You mean like another person?” Dean asked.

The witch nodded, “but I’m afraid they would eventually suffer the same fate as your friend is now. Are you willing to trade another’s life for hers?”

Sam shook his head, “No, we can’t…”

“Do it,” Dean interrupted.

“Dean! We can’t just put this on some innocent person…” Sam began to chide, but Dean cut him off again.

“I’m not talking about some random person, Sam, she can transfer it to me.”

“What? No way! You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m gonna let you do that!”

“Go, get what you need,” Dean said to the witch, ignoring his brother.

She paused for a moment, to determine if he were sure, but the look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. He would gladly give up his life for anyone, but especially the girl. There was something there that she was sure even he was unaware of, but deep in the recesses of his eyes she could see a spark. She could tell he didn’t think he was worth much anyhow. She nodded and walked up the stairs to head back to her shop for the items they needed.

Once the witch was gone, Sam started in on his brother again. “Are you crazy, Dean?! What do you think this is going to solve?”

“It’ll save her life, Sam! She’s on the brink of death right now, and if I trade places with her we’ll have a little more time to figure out how to get me out of it.”

“That’s crazy, Dean! How do you know there even is another way to get you out of it?”

Dean sighed, “We’ll figure it out, alright? But you have to get her to the hospital as soon as the spell transfers. Get her well again and we’ll figure it out.” It looked as if Sam was going to argue again, but Dean cut him off, “Trust me.”

_5 Days, 18 Hours, 33 Minutes, 11 Seconds_

The witch made it back from the run to her shop with all kinds of goodies in tow. The spell was complicated.

Of course.

It took her three tries to get Dean to wrap his head around the procedure. Sam was quicker, but he also seemed more focused. She was right in thinking this girl must be special to the shorter one. He seemed as if he were coming unhinged; anger and desperation hung around his aura like bees to honey. Once she repeated the instructions three times she began setting up the spell.

“Why do we need the mirror again?” Dean asked, warily. He didn’t trust this witch. If it weren’t for her, Jessica wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

She smirked, but continued to crush the Angelica Root in her mortar as she responded. “Again,” she sassed, “when we remove the magic, we cannot predict where and to whom it will flow. The mirror acts as a conduit to channel the power and direct it to the mark…you.”

“I still don’t like this idea,” Sam admonished, “There has to be some other way.”

“Not that we have time for. The girl will die before we can figure it out,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean growled, “Let’s get on with it!”

Everything was set up, the three of them positioned in a triangle with Jessica at the center. The witch slid the large standing mirror into the triangle. “Now, when we say the incantation the magic will flow out of her and into the mirror. Once it’s absorbed I’ll quickly turn it towards you to let it transfer.” She nodded at Dean to get his permission one last time.

“No offense, lady, but I’d rather my brother hold on to the mirror. I don’t trust witches, and I don’t want anything happening to him.”

The witch rolled her eyes, “Fine. You know, you were awfully quick to seek me out for someone who doesn’t trust my kind.”

“Just let him do it,” Dean smirked, “Sam, don’t screw this up.”

The mirror was passed; Sam held it firmly facing Jessica’s limp form.

With a deep breath the witch began chanting, “Essem trahere ad magica. Essem trahere ad magica. Essem trahere ad magica…”

Jessica’s body straightened, pulled up tight onto her knees, her head fell back and her mouth gaped open. From within, a ribbon of purple flame rose and coiled above her until all the magick was released. As instructed, Sam tilted the mirror slightly to cast a reflection onto her and the ribbon uncurled and slithered its way into the mirror. They all watched as it slowly became absorbed, hovering behind the glass, and at the moment when the tail end finally entered the mirror the witch shouted, “NOW!”

Sam turned the mirror sharply, aiming it not at his brother but at the witch.

“Sammy, what are you doing?” Dean shouted, perplexed. This wasn’t the plan!

She screamed in horror as the purple flame sprung like a snake, burrowing under her flesh and lighting her up from within, until both her form and her screams disappeared.

“I wasn’t going to let that happen to you,” he responded with a shrug.

One corner of Dean’s lip turned up in appreciation at his brother’s double cross.

Their brief moment of celebration was interrupted when Jessica moaned in agony. Sam scooped her up in his arms and Dean rushed ahead of him to get the car running. They had to get her to the hospital, and fast.


	9. "Distant Early Warning"

Jessica woke to a low murmur of distant voices in the darkness. She slowly blinked her eyes open and took in her surroundings. The room was dim, a soft light illuminating the far corner. The only other light was coming from the television mounted on the wall across from her. The murmur was coming from the screen. With a deep breath, an involuntary groan escaped her lips, which didn’t feel dry anymore. Her tongue, too, felt normal and she didn’t feel nauseated either. Turning her head to the left on the pillow, she saw Dean rising from a chair and moving towards her.

“Hey, kiddo, how ya feelin’?” he asked as he put his warm hand on her shoulder.

“I’m okay,” she responded, her voice a little raspy, “Where are we?”

“The hospital. They’re giving you some fluids to make you feel better. We almost lost you there kid.”

Jessica sighed as she remembered the last few days. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to get some coffee. He’ll be right back.” Dean half smiled at her, relieved she was going to be alright. For now he would lay off of her, but they were going to have to have a serious talk about what she had done to put herself in this situation. “Sit tight,” he instructed, “I’m gonna go find a doctor.”

She watched him as he walked out into the hallway, glancing in both directions to see who he could find. The shoulder he was holding onto just a second ago was still warm from his touch. Jessica smiled, glad she was still here with him.

*****

Running her thumb over the sigil on her hip, Jessica sat on the edge of her bed. It had been weeks since she had done the spell that created the mark on her skin binding her to this world. Now, the magick was gone, but the mark remained. Like a tattoo one gets when they are inebriated, the sigil was a reminder of mistakes made. Still, it had served its purpose. She was where she wanted to be, with Dean and Sam in the Men of Letters Bunker, and although her actions put her at risk and Dean was angry with her for days afterward, at least he finally gave up on sending her home.

After giving her the silent treatment for the better part of four days when she was released from the hospital, Dean had knocked on her door late one night as she was getting ready for bed. He sat down at the foot of the bed, right where she was sitting now, and genuinely listened to her as she explained why she did what she had done. He couldn’t understand why she would want to stay in this world, a world full of the monsters that plagued humanity, killed his family and friends, and put her at risk of the same. She admitted that she wasn’t completely sure herself. She knew that to him it wouldn’t seem logical, but she felt at home here. Her family life back in her own world was nothing compared to the way she felt when she was with him and his brother, even though she had only been here a relatively short time. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it, but he agreed to stop trying to force the issue. She could stay, as long as she promised not to willingly put herself in danger again.

So, there she was again alone in the bunker. The boys had received an S.O.S. call from Kevin Tran and had run off to see what he had gotten himself into. Before they left, Dean eyed her sternly. He didn’t have to say anything, she knew that it meant to stay put while they were gone, and she wasn’t going to disobey. After the ordeal she had gone through, she really didn’t want to put herself in danger anymore anyway. Instead of finding herself lonely and bored this time, the bunker was a welcome respite of safety and security.

Jessica stood up thinking a nice cup of tea would do before bed. While she was waiting for the kettle to boil, her phone rang. Dean’s name flashed on the screen. He was checking in like he promised, or more likely, checking up on her. Before everything that happened she would have found it annoying, but now she realized that he just did it because he cared, and she had to admit it made her feel better.

“Hey, Dean,” she answered.

His deep voice seemed concerned on the other end of the line, “Hey, kid. I need you to check up on something for me, will ya?”

She hated that he had started calling her that. She wasn’t a kid.

Sighing, she let it go, “Sure, what’s up?”

“See if you can dig anything up on gateways to Hell.”

She suddenly became worried, “Why? You guys aren’t doing something stupid are you?”

“Of course we are, that’s what we do,” he cheekily remarked, “Can you just see what you can find, please? I just need some info in case things go sideways.”

“Yeah, I’ll look, but Dean?”

“What?”

“Please be careful. I didn’t risk my life trying to stay here with you all just so I could lose you two to some kind of crazy season finale shit. No ‘The Road So Far’ moments okay?”

“Huh?”

Of course he wouldn’t understand that reference. 

“Just come back in one piece please?”

Dean sniggered on the other end of the line, “I’ll do my best. Call me if you find something.” The phone beeped signaling that he had hung up.

She had a bad feeling about this.

The tea kettle began to whistle and she poured herself a cup of tea, switching from the intended soothing chamomile to a stronger caffeinated black tea. She wasn’t going to bed anytime soon apparently. 

*****

Dean shuffled bacon and eggs around in the frying pan that Kevin had been wielding as a weapon the day before. He had to get some breakfast into that scrawny, sickly looking body of his. The kid had lost it. He was letting the pressure get to him. Dean knew all too well what that felt like, but it was important that Kevin kept his wits about him. He was the key to unlocking the Demon Tablet and the secrets of closing the gates of Hell permanently. He had to get the kid back in good working order so they could get the job done. If that meant playing babysitter, then so be it.

He was starting to feel like a permanent babysitter these days. Between worrying about Jessica and keeping Kevin from going off the rails, he was constantly worried about his brother and what these trials were doing to him. Now he was stuck here, waiting for Sam to come back from rescuing Bobby from The Pit, hoping that the reaper that was shuttling him back and forth was trustworthy. Their lives were so complicated all the time. Sometimes he just wished he could live a normal life, and maybe if they finished these trials he could. Maybe they all could. For now, all he could do was make sure he held all of them together.

“Hey, Kevin! Come in here and grab some of these eggs!”

There was no response.

“Kev! C’mon man you can’t hide in there forever.” A door squeaked opened, but not the one Dean was expecting. 

Kevin walked in from outside, shutting the door behind him quickly and locking it.

“Where the hell have you been? What happened to being scared?” Dean asked, confused.

Kevin began ranting again about how Crowley was “on his ass” and explained that he hid the tablet so Crowley wouldn’t get his hands on it when he finally got to him. When Dean protested and threatened the kid to tell him where it was hidden, Kevin called his bluff and locked himself back in the utility closet. Before Dean could even begin to form the words “son of a bitch”, he was interrupted by an unknown voice.

“Kids, so cute when they’re little, then they turn into teenagers and the party’s over. We haven’t been formally introduced, Dean. My name is Naomi.”

Dean backed away, warily. “Oh I know who you are, and I know what you did to Cas after he got out of Purgatory.” This wasn’t happening. Can’t even one thing go smoothly in their lives? Now he has to deal with some angel bitch too?

“After I _rescued_ him from Purgatory, you mean, at the cost of many angels’ lives.”

Dean wasn’t having any of it. “You screwed with his head and had him spy on us!”

She went on and on about how Cas was unstable, trying to convince Dean that she was on his side, but Dean never trusted the angels. Hell, it took a long time before he even trusted Castiel. All she was doing was trying to spin the situation to make herself look like one of the good guys, and he wasn’t buying it. After all, she was the one who told Cas to kill him, and he had almost succeeded. No, he wasn’t about to trust her after that, no matter what she claimed. Before she could get another word out, he pulled an Angel Blade out of his waistband and pointed it at her. Naomi put her hands up in surrender and backed away.

“I know you don’t want to believe it, Dean, but we’re on the same side. Shutting the gates of Hell, bringing Castiel in from the cold…take a moment, think about what I’ve said.” With one final pleading look, the room filled with the sound of wings flapping and she was gone.

Dean looked around to make sure she was really gone before dumping the bacon and eggs into the trash and tossing the pan into the sink with a loud clang. This was all he needed now: more angel interference.

His phone rang in his pocket and he stowed the blade before answering. It was Jessica.

“What’d you find?” he asked in greeting. 

“Hello to you too,” she snarked, “I found a couple of mentions of entrances into Hell. The Devil’s Gate, which you guys took care of a long time ago, a few rituals which the Men of Letters debunked, and a back door through Purgatory, but you can only get there if you find a reaper that can open the door and let you in.”

“Purgatory? You sure?”

“Um, yeah that’s what it says,” Jessica responded, “Why do you need this again?”

Dean’s face turned to a sickly pallor. “I’ll tell you later. I’ve got to go!” He heard her say something else but he was already out the door as he hung up the phone.

*****

Jessica stayed up all night, pacing the floor and worrying about what the hell Dean and Sam got themselves into this time. She tried Dean’s cell several times, but it just went straight to voicemail. Sam’s phone didn’t seem to work at all; nothing but dead silence over the line. She couldn’t help but get the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. She was about to throw caution to the wind and defy Dean’s very specific orders to stay put when she heard the metal door in the Crow’s Nest scrape along the floor. They were back!

“What the hell happened? I was worried sick about you! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

The boys shuffled down the stairs. Dean was clearly favoring his right foot and Sam looked worse for wear. “We had a bit of an emergency, but we’re all right,” Dean responded, as he touched down at the bottom of the stairs. “We just need some rest. You look like you do too.”

Jessica blushed. She couldn’t imagine what she must look like at the moment since she spent most of the night pulling her hair out with worry. She was sure she was a disheveled mess. “You can’t do that to me! I thought you weren’t coming back!”

“Sorry, Jess. We should have called,” Sam conceded, “but on the bright side, we got the second trial done.”

Jessica looked over at Dean. The troubled look on his face confirmed that Sam was telling the truth. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned as well. Both she and Dean knew that these trials were messing with him, making him sick.

“I’m good. Just tired. Gonna go grab a shower and a few hours. I’ll see you later.” Sam squeezed her arm in reassurance before walking past her and disappearing into the hallway.

Jessica turned to examine Dean. “What happened to your foot?”

“Nothing, I think I just sprained my ankle or something.”

“Do you want me wrap it?”

Dean half-smiled, “No, I’m good. I can take care of it.” He stood there and looked down at her for a moment. As much of a pain in the ass as she could be, she was genuinely concerned for him and his brother. It was sweet that she wanted to take care of them. He was going to have to take it easier on her. He knew he had been a dick lately. Besides, he might need her help with Sam. Whatever this second trial did to him, he was sure it wasn’t going to be good.

"Dean? You know you can talk to me if you need to, about anything.”

He looked at her a minute longer. That wasn’t going to happen. He would never dump his problems on anyone. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s both go get some sleep. We can all talk later.” He put his arm around her shoulder and guided her through the archway and into the corridor towards their rooms.

“I hate when you call me that, you know?”

Dean smiled, “I know, kiddo, I know.”

“Dick.”

Dean laughed and walked her to her door. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“It’s morning, dumbass!” she retorted with a smile before shutting the door.

Dean smiled to himself before heading to his own room to turn in for a while. He dropped his duffle on the chair next to the dresser and stripped down to his underwear before climbing into bed. He’d shower when he woke up later. As he lay there staring up at the ceiling in the dark, his mind drifted to Benny. He sacrificed himself to save Sam from Purgatory, and Dean couldn’t be more grateful, but he still counted it as a loss. Dean wished he had been around more for him. He didn’t know he was having such a hard time here on Earth. Benny was probably better off in Purgatory anyway. Dean knew how good the purity of it felt; nothing to worry about there but survival. Here, there were too many things to worry about. Kevin had fled, Sam was a mess, he was trying to keep Jessica out of danger, Crowley was a thorn in his side, and Cas was nowhere to be found. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him and he was sure he was about to get crushed.

*****

“Anything?” Dean asked as he entered the library, placing the bag full of snacks on the chair next to Jessica and the six pack of Margiekugel’s Lager on the table. His laptop was still open to the security cameras they were keeping an eye on. 

“Nope, nada,” Jessica responded, “Nothing on the cams, and I tried Kevin’s cell several times. He’s not answering.” She got up from the seat she was keeping warm for him and rifled through the grocery bag looking for her bag of Dill Pickle Potato Chips.

“Great,” Dean grumbled, eyes back on the screen again, “Those things are disgusting by the way.”

Jessica opened the bag and wafted it under his nose.

“Ugghh, get that shit away from me.”

She smiled, popped a chip in her mouth, and took a seat on the opposite side of the table grinning at him as she put her feet up on the table. She crunched another chip when he pulled a face at her.

He grabbed a bottle out of the cardboard carrier and twisted the cap off before taking a sip, staring again at the security footage in front of him. They heard a door close in the hallway and they both turned to see Sam walk in, looking bedraggled and rubbing the sleep from his face. The last trial had really taken a toll on him, and it wasn’t alleviating any of their worry. Dean scrunched up his face again, taking in his brother’s appearance. “I’m telling you give me five minutes with some clippers and…”

“Oh shut up,” Sam responded, too exhausted to deal with Dean’s crap, “Uh, what time did I lay down?”

Dean looked at his watch, “You took a siesta around noon…yesterday.” Grabbing another beer bottle, he tossed it in his brother’s direction. It flew past Sam and crashed to the floor of the war room. Sam just looked back and forth, bewildered. “I’m sorry, I uh…”

“That’s why we don’t have nice things, Sam” Dean snarked.

Jessica glanced over at Dean who eyed her with mutual concern for his brother. “I’ll get a broom and a mop.” She got up and headed for the broom closet, and when she returned, she swept up the broken glass and then mopped up the spilled beer as Sam was trying his best to convince Dean that he was fine. 

“Sam, no offense, but you look like death warmed over,” Jessica remarked, putting the mop back in the bucket of soapy water and leaning the handle against the table.

“Guys, I’m fine. I can still go out there, I can still hunt.”

“Really?” Dean challenged in disbelief, “Let’s put that to the test then.”

Sam and Jessica followed Dean towards the back of the bunker to a room that Jessica had never been in before. She was always amazed at the size of this place and all the neat things the Men of Letters had hidden down long corridors. Apparently, they had a shooting range. Who knew?

Jessica hung back as Dean popped off two rounds, hitting the chest of the target with ease. She watched his face, hardened with intense focus as he surveyed his accomplishment. It was Sam’s turn then, to prove to his brother that he could shoot with as much accuracy in his current state. She watched him too, as he hesitated and then fired two rounds of his own, each one missing the target and hitting the concrete wall behind instead. Clearly, he did not pass Dean’s test.

“Look man that second trial hit you a lot harder than that first one. I don’t know if it was just more intense or what?”

“Felt the same,” Sam sighed, “until the next day.” He looked defeated.

Dean nodded, “So, we’re gonna sit tight. Keep an eye out until you uh, get better.” He tossed a stray bullet casing into the range and walked out the door.

Sam sighed heavily and leaned against the shooting stall. He felt a small, warm hand on his back and stood upright again.

“Sam, you’re gonna be okay,” Jessica assured him, “You just have to rest, you know? Take it easy for a bit before jumping back into things.”

He turned around to look at her. “I’m not so sure I’m going to get better to be honest. These trials, they’re designed to be arduous. But it’s worth it if we can shut the gates of Hell permanently. It’s something worth dying for."

“You cut that shit out, Sam Winchester! Don’t you dare give up like that!” Jessica scolded him. “Besides, you can’t leave me here alone with your brother. I’ll either kill him or fall in love with him. Neither of those options will likely end well.”

Sam chuffed, “I think you’re already in love with him.”

Jessica could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment. “What? No I’m not.”

“Sure you’re not,” he teased.

“You shut your mouth, Winchester. C’mon, I’ll go make you some soup or something.” 

They headed back into the library where Dean was waiting. “Hey, I’m making soup, you want some?”

“Nah, I’m gonna eat my pie in a minute.”

“I told you not to buy that processed crap,” Jess complained, “I’ll make you a homemade one later.”

“I can eat both,” Dean said, slightly offended that she didn’t think so.

“You guys bicker like an old married couple.” Sam pointed that remark towards Jessica; her face becoming flushed again.

“Shut up, Sam” both she and Dean replied in unison.

Jessica turned to leave when Sam’s laptop dinged with an email alert. It was from Charlie Bradbury saying she was in the area and had a case for them. Oh my God! She was going to meet Charlie? This day might actually get better! Charlie was one of Jessica’s favorite characters on the show, and considering she hadn’t really met any of the other supporting characters yet, which she was a bit bitter about, meeting Charlie was going to be a highlight in an otherwise depressing day. Her mood was instantly lifted, and she hurried to get Sam’s soup so she could go and fix herself up a bit before Charlie got there. She wanted to make a good impression, knowing the boys thought of her like family. Plus, Charlie was just cool and it was going to be a much needed distraction from the depressing thought of Sam being sick.

When she pulled up in her bright yellow Gremlin, Jessica stood next to Sam and Dean with a giant smile on her face. She squealed in delight as the car came to a stop in front of them. “Ahhh, this is so exciting!”

“Alright, Superfan, calm down,” Dean chided.

“Sorry,” she responded, trying to hide her childish grin.

Dean greeted Charlie when she stepped out of the car. “Your highness!”

“What’s up, bitches?” she countered, making Dean chuckle as he pulled her in for a hug. She glanced over at Jessica with curiosity, before pulling Sam in for a hug as well. When Sam faltered a little, propping himself up on the hood of the Impala, Charlie forgot all about the cute mystery girl, and instead examined Sam with concern. “You okay, Sam?” she asked, eyeing Dean for conformation.

Sam, of course, deflected her question. He asked what brought her to Kansas and she mentioned there was some kind of comic book convention in town.

“So, are you gonna introduce me to your new friend here?” Charlie turned quizzically towards Jessica again. 

“Hi!” Jessica squeaked, wrapping her arms around Charlie in a great big hug, “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Charlie looked back and forth between Sam and Dean in confusion. “Um…nice to meet you too…I think?”

Jessica felt a tug on her elbow as Dean gently pulled her away. “Charlie, this is Jessica. She’s a fan.” 

“A fan of…me? Cool!” Charlie smiled her bright smile, instantly accepting the weirdness. It was one thing Jessica admired about her.

They invited Charlie in to see the bunker, and just like Jessica was when she had first arrived, Charlie was in awe. It was like the boys found their own bat cave, or better yet, Hogwarts! Sam filled Charlie in on who Jessica was and on the Men of Letters, which only made the place even cooler, and then the conversation turned to what was going on in her life.

Charlie blinked. She was actively trying to avoid any questions that might lead to why she was there. Maybe if she diverted to some more fantasy talk they wouldn’t ask any more questions. “Made a deal with the Yesteryear weirdos! We’re gonna team up to stomp the shadow orcs.” Her face turned serious. “You guys are still coming to the Mid-Year Jubilee, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Dean replied, just a seriously.

Charlie smiled and turned toward Jessica, “You can come too if you want? We can always use another warrior on our team!”

“Awesome! I’ll totally be there!” Jess enthused, “Besides, I’m not going to miss a chance to see these two dorks in costume in person.”

Dean and Sam both turned to her, Sam in confusion, Dean in mock-offence.

“That is so weird how they are like a TV show in your world. It’s kinda cool too, though how…”Charlie stopped mid-sentence when Dean gave her a look as if to say, “It’s not cool.” She cleared her throat and didn’t finish her sentence.

Sam, desperate to change the subject, interjected, “So what about this case you brought us?

Charlie took his cue and dug her tablet out of her bag. “When I was in Topeka, I saw this pop up over the wire.” She read the information from the screen as the rest of them leaned in and listened intently. “Tom Blake, a checkout clerk in Salina, who went missing on his way home from work. He was found dead yesterday, his insides: liquefied.” She continued on with the information as Dean and Sam exchanged knowing glances. “I have eliminated the following things that go bump in the night…”

“Wait a minute,” Sam interrupted, “when did you become such an expert?”

Charlie stopped short, “Well, after you guys left I dug into all things monsters. I’m a wee bit obsessive if a wee bit means completely. I also found this series of books by Carver Edlund?”

The boys rolled their eyes and shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

“Did those books really happen?” Charlie asked. Judging by their awkward silence, she figured they were. “Wow, that’s some meta madness.”

“You should see the show.” Jessica interjected, drawing looks from both the boys again. She looked back and forth between them making eye contact. “I got to see the naked parts on my television.”

Sam blushed and Dean looked appalled. The thought sunk in a bit and Dean took a long lingering look at Jessica who just smiled at him tauntingly. She could have sworn she saw his cheeks turn a bit pink as well, but Charlie jumped in again trying to throw them a line to climb out of their embarrassment.

“Thanks for saving the world and stuff.” She turned to Sam, “Sorry you have zero luck with the ladies.”

This made Dean smile, it was always much better when the focus was on embarrassing his brother rather than him.

“We need to find every single copy of those books and burn them.” Sam insisted.

“There online now,” Charlie burst his bubble, “So, good luck with that.”

Dean was done with this conversation and quickly changed the subject before the embarrassment swung back around his way. There was probably something to this case Charlie found. He was going to go check it out while simultaneously avoiding any more talk about his life being on display for all to see and read. When Sam jumped up to go with him Dean put his foot down. He wasn’t letting his brother go out on a hunt in his condition. 

Charlie quickly volunteered, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer, so Dean gave her the same test that he gave his brother before in the shooting range. There was no way she’d pass. She double tapped the target right in the head and smirked in challenge. Reluctantly, Dean agreed to let her ride along as long as she wore the proper FBI attire. They quickly gathered their stuff and took off, leaving Sam and Jessica behind in the bunker. Before he left, Dean gave Jessica explicit instructions to keep an eye on his brother.

While Charlie tried on several outfits, most of which Dean did not approve of, she decided to dig a little deeper for what was going on with Sam, and get some information on the new girl from the alternate dimension. These trials Sam was going through seemed pretty intense, but he was a Winchester, and if those books about their lives were actually true, it wasn’t like they hadn’t faced insurmountable odds before. They’d be okay, especially now that they had someone to help take care of them. Jessica seemed like a sweet girl, and from the hour or so she spent with them at the bunker she could tell that the girl really did care for them.

“She’s a pain in the ass sometimes,” Dean griped, “but I’ll admit it’s starting to feel like she’s always been there. It would be weird without her now.”

“Hmm…maybe a little sparkage there?” Charlie smiled and batted her eyelashes before turning around to examine herself in the mirror again.

“All right, let’s not get excited here. First of all, she’s too young, she’s just a kid…”

“I seem to remember you checking out some barely legal girls in the books,” Charlie teased.

Dean gave her a look of derision before continuing, “Secondly, I’m not exactly Prince Charming. Hunters can’t have real relationships. I’m not going to put her in any more danger than she’s already in.”

Charlie turned around and smiled at him, continuing to goad him, “So, what you’re saying is…she’s relationship material?”

“For someone else she is. I’m not good for her.”

When she turned around, she could have sworn he looked a little sad as he said that, but if he was he quickly covered it up. “Well, I’m gonna give you my two cents even if you don’t want it…I think she likes you. She seems to gravitate around you when you’re in the room together. She was next to you when I arrived, she sat next to you when we were in the library. Plus, she’s kinda cute, so maybe you should give her a chance? You guys saved the world. You deserve some happiness.”

“Thanks, Mom, are we done here?” Dean asked dryly.

Charlie smiled carefully. She didn’t want to push it with Dean. For one, he was letting her go on this hunt with him, and two she was fully aware that sometime she could overstep her boundaries. Dean might need a little push to get him to see what was clearly in front of him, and Charlie wanted him and Sam to find some happiness, but it wasn’t necessarily her place to pry. Although, she was now going to secretly ship him and Jessica. “Boring pant suit, reporting for duty,” she announced and turned back to the mirror to straighten out the jacket again.

Dean asked to borrow her phone because his was out of range, and after he called his brother to check up again, they paid for her new outfit and headed back to the Impala.

*****

Back in the bunker, Sam had found his way back into the shooting range. His brother had called to check in already, but he was fine. Dean was being ridiculous about these trials. He could still hunt! After hanging up with Dean he tested his aim again, this time hitting the target just outside the outline of the body. “Close enough.” He said aloud, and he turned around to leave, but Jessica was standing in the doorway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

“I’m fine. I’m going to catch up with Dean and Charlie.”

Jessica sighed heavily, “Sam, Dean told you to stay put, and he’s usually right about these things. You couldn’t even hit the target just now!”

“Look, Jess, I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but I’m fine.” Sam continued to insist.

Jessica looked at him and thought for a second. “Well, if you’re going, then I’m coming with you.”

“What? No. No, you might get hurt.”

“So might you! Let’s face it, Sam you aren’t up to full speed. Plus Dean told me to watch you and I can’t do that if I’m not with you, so…”

Sam nodded, clearly trying to think of a way out of this. “Alright,” he figured it out, “you can come with me if you can hit the target. Same test Dean gave Charlie.” He was certain Jessica had never shot a gun in her life, so he wasn’t worried at all about having to let her tag along. His thoughts seemed to be confirmed when he had to show her how to take the safety off before she tried. 

Jessica stood in the stall and aimed the gun at the target. She took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit the target in the torso. “Ha! Did you see that?” she celebrated.

“Beginners luck,” Sam said, “If you can hit it again, then we’ll talk about you coming along.”

She frowned at him, but then defiantly turned around and aimed again. POP! POP! Two rounds went off this time, one ripping through the targets chest and one through the eye. With her hand on her hip, she turned to a dumbfounded Sam and presented the gun to him as if it were a cocktail on a tray. “You still want to go?” she challenged.

“C’mon were gonna have to get you a fed suit.”

*****

The Impala rumbled to a stop in front of the police line. While Dean and Charlie were at the morgue learning a few things about FBI procedures, which the coroner was apparently a stickler for, another call came in about another body. This time two teenagers found it while walking home along the Shunga trail; basically a dirt path that wound its way between the Shunganunga Creek and the railroad lines. The scene was covered with cops and a few onlookers, and Charlie was starting to get nervous again. She wasn’t so sure how good she was at this hunting thing. It looked a lot easier than it actually was, especially when she became a total spaz whenever she got anxious.

“Maybe you should go first this time,” Charlie suggested as Dean put the car in park.

“Nuh-uh! Back on the horse kiddo, c’mon.” 

Dean turned the engine off and they both got out of the car, walking under the yellow caution tape and up to the officer on duty. Charlie introduced herself, much more calmly this time around, and she and Dean flashed their fake badges. She was about to introduce Dean, well his alias anyway, when the officer interrupted her. 

“Save it. Your other agents are over there.” The officer pointed behind her.

Dean glanced over to where she was gesturing and scowled. His brother was there. Had he not told him to stay put? As he walked closer he could have shot daggers out of his eyes when he saw that Jessica was there too. _That’s it, I’m gonna have to lock them both up next time,_ he thought. As he made his way over Jessica glimpsed him and his angry expression and alerted Sam to turn around.

“What took you guys so long?” Sam asked, irritated.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean was annoyed, and he wasn’t hiding it.

Sam responded matter of factly, “Working the case, same as you.”

“Okay, well what the hell is she doing here?” He was angrier now.

“You told her to keep an eye on me and she wouldn’t let me leave without her, so I brought her along.”

“That’s not…” Dean shouted but then realized he was not in the right environment to make a scene, “That is not what I meant. You need to rest, and _she_ isn’t supposed to put herself in harm’s way anymore. She promised.” That comment was directed straight at Jessica, who winced in apology.

“Whatever, we’re here, let’s work the case,” Sam continued. “Jake Hill, librarian, went missing yesterday. No relation to the other vic, coroner already swooped in and scooped up what was left of him.”

Dean sighed, “Yeah, yeah we met her. Bit of a stickler. Well, there’s not a body, nothing else to see here so why don’t you two head on home?”

Sam locked eyes with Dean in challenge. “Still need to talk to the witnesses.”

Dean stayed engaged, not backing down. “Well, we can handle that. Charlie, why don’t you go talk to the witnesses?”

“But I don’t want to miss the bromance…”

“Charlie!” Dean exclaimed. He stared her down until she reluctantly walked away.

Jessica finally chimed in, “Um…I’m gonna go help her while you two discuss things.”

Dean looked back at her sharply. “Fine,” he said, trying to remain calm, “go, but stay with Charlie and don’t get too comfy ‘cause you and Sam here are going back to the bunker in just a minute.”

“Okie dokie,” Jessica responded biting her lip awkwardly. She headed down to where Charlie had caught up with the two teenagers. They were in the middle of geeking out over the video game they were playing, Charlie included. After interrogating them, the girls learned that the corpse had a strange blue handprint on its arm, which was definitely new information and neither Charlie or Jessica knew what it meant. They were about to go back and share the news with the boys, but Jessica put her hand up to stop Charlie. “Maybe we should give them another minute.” 

The boys were still engaged in what seemed like a heated argument.

“Dean seems really upset about Sam and these trials. I mean I know he seems a little off, but is it really all that bad?” Charlie asked.

Jessica grimaced, knowing that indeed it did seem to be as bad as Dean said. “These trials, I could tell that they weren’t going to be good before I even got here. I saw the first one when I was back in my world, on the show. It looked pretty painful. Sam was coughing up blood for weeks. And now, after this second one…I don’t know but I understand why Dean’s worried.”

“Well, they’ll be okay, right? I mean from what I’ve read about and seen first-hand, they seem to overcome everything.”

“Sometimes, though, they pay a big price. I don’t know if I could live through something like that with them. If something happens to Sam, or Dean…” Jessica trailed off unable to finish the thought.

Charlie tried to cheer her up, “You know if it makes you feel any better, they care about you a lot too. Dean’s really taken a liking to you.”

Jessica huffed, “I’m not so sure about that. He’s gotten better, but I still think he would have been happier if their spell to send me home had worked.”

“That’s not the impression I got from our conversation earlier.”

“What do you mean?” Jessica asked, hopeful.

“Let’s just say, he might be a little sad to lose you. I think that’s why he’s being so overprotective of you. Just like his brother, he worries. He doesn’t want to see anything bad happen to you.” Charlie hedged.

“He said that?”

“That was the gist.” She finished.

Jessica smiled at the thought. Sam and Dean looked as if the argument had calmed a bit, but it was probably a good idea to intervene so it didn’t get heated again. “C’mon, let’s go rescue Sam from Dean’s wrath.”

The girls walked back up to the brothers and Charlie filled them in on what they found out, breaking up the continued bickering. At least for the moment it had. Dean continued to goad Sam to head back to the bunker, but Sam was adamant that he wasn’t going anywhere. Finally, Dean gave up. There was no talking to Sam when he was like this. At least he was going to get Jessica out of harm’s way.

“Whatever,” he said quickly turning to walk back to his Baby, “Jessica, let’s go!”

“Uh…um…I’d better…” Jessica looked back and forth between Sam and Charlie before hotfooting it to catch up with Dean. She got into the passenger side while Dean started the car. She wanted to say something, to ease Dean’s mind about Sam, but since she pretty much agreed that his brother wasn’t up for hunting at the moment she didn’t know how to do that. Lying to Dean right now probably wasn’t a good idea. Jess didn’t want him to take it out on her later if anything happened to Sam on the case.

They drove a short distance down the road before Dean pulled into the Kwik Shop to fuel up Baby. He left Jessica in the car so he could go “take a leak”, which was the classiest way he could have announced his need to urinate. She listened to the Led Zeppelin tape that Dean currently had inserted into the cassette player. “Heartbreaker” was playing, and Jessica nonchalantly bobbed her head to the beat. When Dean returned he quickly turned out of the station and back onto the road heading for the coroner’s office. He didn’t say a word until they pulled into the parking lot of the Topeka Post Office Credit Union, which was directly across the street from the Shawnee County Building. On the opposite side of the Coroner’s office was the Topeka Police Station. Dean didn’t want to park there and draw any suspicion. 

“Alright, you stay put. Don’t leave this car for any reason. You got that?” he barked.

Jessica rolled her eyes, “Yes, Dean. I’ll be a good girl and wait for you here.”

“This isn’t a joke, kid. Stay put. If something goes wrong, you take Baby and find the nearest motel. Check in under the alias we put on the credit card Sam gave you. We’ll meet up with you there.”

“Wait, you’re leaving me with the keys?” Jessica’s eyes lit up.

“Emergencies only! I’ll be back in a bit.”

Jessica sat in the car like Dean instructed, patiently waiting on him to return. It was only about fifteen minutes until he appeared again, crossing 4th Street and walking in long strides to the Impala. “God he looks good in a suit,” Jessica remarked dreamily to herself. The driver’s side door squeaked when Dean opened it and climbed back inside.

*****

The four of them made it back to the bunker and dug into the research. This creature, whatever it was, was baffling. It seemed like every trail of lore they followed ended in a dead end. Even Charlie’s monster database wasn’t turning anything up. It was a good couple of hours until finally Dean found something in their Dad’s journal. Apparently, there was some sort of special Djinn that liquified it’s victim’s insides and left behind the mysterious blue handprint that was left on the second corpse. According to John’s journal, it died the same way as a regular Djinn, so at least they didn’t have to worry about that.

Once they made their breakthrough, Charlie announced it was break time and that she was going to get snacks. Her exit was rather abrupt, even Jessica noticed it, and it raised a red flag for Dean and Sam. Charlie wasn’t even out the door before Dean made his concerns known.

“She seemed a little off to you?” Dean inquired.

“From the second she got here,” Sam responded.

Dean grimaced, “Well, I guess we should keep an eye on her when she gets back. I’m gonna go grab some things so we can head out later and take care of the genie.” He got up and walked down the hallway to his room. His duffle was on the chair where he left it after the last hunt and he picked up to move it to the end of his bed where he can repack it more easily. He had grabbed a few silver blades and stashed them, but he’d have to go to the kitchen to grab the lamb’s blood they had stashed at the back of the fridge. Jessica was always complaining about how unsanitary it was to keep that with their food. The memory of her face the first time she saw it sitting there behind the milk carton made him chuckle a bit. It was almost as if she had read his mind when she knocked on the door frame and walked in to hand over the mason jar.

“Here’s your disgusting lamb’s blood,” she said as Dean took it and wrapped it in one of his t-shirts before nestling it into his bag with the rest of the supplies. “I’m glad that thing is finally out of our fridge.”

“Well, we’re not going to use all of it. We’ll have enough left to put it back when we get the job done,” he teased.

“Uggghh, it’s so gross. We should get a mini-fridge that we can keep that crap somewhere else.”

Dean smiled and zipped up his duffle. “Well, you can work on that while we’re gone then.”

Jessica frowned. “I was hoping that I could come with you guys. You know, keep an eye on Sam and help out? In a non-hunting kind of way?”

“Absolutely not. You are staying here and keeping yourself safe. If I could make Sam stay behind I would but that big oaf is going to do what he wants anyway, so I’d rather be there with him to keep him alive.”

“I just want to help, Dean. Please?”

Dean sighed and sat down on the end of the bed, patting the spot next to him for Jessica to come sit. “Listen, kid. You do help, all the time, more than you even know.”

“Right, I help Sam with the research on occasion, but I’m not really helping when it comes to the big stuff. I’ll admit I’m not too keen on the getting hurt part, but maybe if you guys train me I could help some. At least I won’t feel like I’m useless.”

“Jessica, you don’t have to physically fight to be helpful, and you’re not useless. Do you think we haven’t noticed how you take care of us?” Dean asked, rhetorically, “Whenever we are on our way home from a hunt we always know that you’ll be here to help pick up whatever pieces we’re in. I look forward to coming back, because I know you’ll have a freshly made pie waiting for me after a long hunt.”

Jessica smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious. You do help! Sam and I have been on our own for an eternity. Sure we had family that we could rely on and visit once in a while, but you…you’re like the pain in the ass little sister we never wanted!”

“Thanks a lot, Dean!” Jessica remarked.

“All joking aside,” he continued, “you may not help us fight, but you keep us healthy and sane. You give us a place to come home to, not just to lay our heads down for the night. You’re family kid. You do more for us than you realize.”

Jessica smiled half-heartedly. It was nice to hear that they relied on her to take care of them, but she hated having to sit in the bunker and wait to see if they were coming back. She felt helpless when she knew that what they did was life or death and there was no way she could protect them

“C’mon I know you can smile better than that, I’ve seen it,” Dean goaded her as he playfully punched her shoulder. She smiled with more enthusiasm at his jest.

His face became serious for a moment. “You know, you’re beautiful when you smile like that?”

Jessica’s smile dropped and was replaced by a look of shock. Did Dean Winchester just call her beautiful? She blushed again for the third time that day. It didn’t help that Dean’s eyes lingered on hers for a few moments.

He got up suddenly, realizing he had let his carefully crafted mask slip. “Alright, so we’re agreed. You’re staying here and Sam and I will go take care of this Djinn.” He made his way through the door before turning around. “I expect pie when I get back.” He winked and left her still sitting on the edge of his bed.

*****

Charlie had gone missing, and they were certain that the Djinn had something to do with it. While Dean was checking up on another lead, Sam and Jessica did some more digging into the case. Turns out the coroner knew more than she let on. She might even have been the Djinn. Once Dean got back and they filled him in on what they discovered, the boys left for Topeka and Jessica stayed behind as Dean insisted. It was only four hours later when her cell phone rang. Sam and Dean had killed the Djinn, but Charlie was still stuck under her spell. They needed Jessica to bring them some African Dream Root from the storage room. Dean, always being the hero was going to work his way through Charlie’s mind and try to pull her out of the Djinn’s trance.

Sam refreshed her on how to hotwire a car, and once Jessica found one it was like riding a bike. Her sense memory took over from the time she went to play superhero to Prometheus. Luckily it was well past rush hour so she made it to Topeka in a little under four hours. They didn’t have much time to work with, as they were afraid that the longer Charlie was under, the harder it would be to pull her out before the Djinn’s poison killed her. 

Dean met her at the entrance to the abandoned shipping warehouse where they tracked Charlie and the Djinn down and led her inside where Sam was waiting. Jessica handed over the Dream Root and Dean set about mixing the concoction that he needed to drink to walk in Charlie’s dream. “Alright, let’s do this,” Dean said before knocking back the murky, beige liquid. He winced and grunted out his disgust before handing the empty jar back to Sam. “Alright, I’m gonna need to go to sleep fast so uh…punch me.”

Sam looked at his brother in disbelief for a split second.

“Look, man, I know you don’t want to okay…”

BWAK! Sam’s fist collided with Dean’s face sending him reeling to the side. Jessica winced, almost able to feel the pain herself from where she was standing. It didn’t even do the job, and Sam was shaking his hand in discomfort. Dean righted himself and taunted Sam, “Boy you’re a little off your game there, ‘cause that was…” BIFF! Sam landed an uppercut to Dean’s chin, effectively sending him backward into the chair Dean had set out earlier to catch him; his head lolled to the side.

“Jesus, Sam, are you okay?”

He shook his hand out again, letting out a gurgled response, “Yeah, I’ll be okay in a minute. God he’s got a brick jaw!”

“Let me see your hand,” Jessica demanded, holding out her open palm.

“I’m good,” Sam replied, flexing his fingers, “See, I’m okay.”

“Yeah, well, your poor brother’s gonna have a welt.”

Sam began to cough again, checking his hand for any blood that may have come up.

“Sam, we really need to figure out how to get you better. These trials are really messing with you!”

Before he could respond, the sound of metal grating against concrete echoed through the warehouse. Someone had opened the door. Sam looked around, quickly surveying the area for any hiding spots. “Jess, quick, get behind those crates over there. Hurry!”

She looked over at Dean and Charlie’s unconscious forms and then back at Sam with panic in here eyes before doing as she was told. What the fresh hell was this?! Crouching behind the wooden shipping crates, Jessica peered in between the cracks to keep and eye on Sam as he walked back out to where the Djinn lay dead. Once he was out of sight she strained to listen for any sign of distress. It wasn’t long before she heard voices. She waited and listened, but when she heard Sam groan and a body hit the floor she knew she had to go help him. He wasn’t up to speed and Dean was still out like a light.

Walking fast but as quietly as possible, Jessica followed the commotion around the corner and into another part of the warehouse. Sam was facing off with a teenage boy, judging by Sam’s remarks he was the son of the Djinn they had killed. But Sam being wobbly on his feet, got knocked down when the kid threw a punch that landed squarely on his jaw. The knife flew out of his hand to the floor. When the kid was distracted, looking down at his mother’s dead body and monologuing like every evil villain in every movie, Jessica caught Sam’s attention and nodded at the knife. Realizing what she was trying to convey, he slid the knife over to her and she picked it up just in time to slide it right into the boys back. With the blue glow in his eyes flaming out, he fell to the floor and Jessica ran over to help Sam back up on his feet.

“I can’t believe I did that!” Jessica beamed.

Sam looked down at her and smiled back, “You did good, Jess. C’mon let’s go check on Dean and Charlie.” They waited for what seemed like an eternity before Dean began to stir. “Dean, hey, hey,” Sam said as he helped his brother up, “c’mere. You okay? What happened? What happened?”

“I’m okay,” Dean replied turning his attention to Charlie.

She was waking up as well, looking much more distraught than Dean. Sam and Jessica looked on as Dean apologized for something he must have done in the dream, and then Charlie flung herself into his chest, clinging to him with tears in her eyes. Dean held her close, and Sam looked over at Jessica who returned his look of concern.

*****

After resting up at the bunker, Charlie said her goodbyes and Sam and Jessica headed back inside to let her and Dean talk. Sam went to check his email in the library and Jess went to go put the pie she had been in the process of making before she left to help the boys, in the oven to bake. It wouldn’t be ready right away, but Dean could wait. She had just gotten the timer set when Dean walked in to the kitchen. Jessica couldn’t read his expression, but she guessed he was going to have something to say about how she put herself in danger again.

“Look, Dean, I know what I did was risky, but I couldn’t just let Sam…”

Her plea for forgiveness was interrupted when Dean’s arms slid around her and pulled her close, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for saving my brother.”

Jessica looked up at him when he let her loose, “You’re not mad?”

“You killed the bad guy. How can I be mad about that?”

She smiled up at him, proud of her accomplishment. “Does this mean I can go hunting with you guys again?”

Dean laughed, and then his face became abruptly serious, “No.”

Jessica pouted.

“You’ll get over it,” he soothed, sitting down at the table and propping his feet up on the stool next to him. “So, how long is that pie going to take?”


	10. "The Weight"

Jessica wheeled the industrial-sized laundry cart out of the Men of Letters shower room. It was whites day, so the cart was already full of all of their used towels and now she just had to strip the sheets off all their beds. Sam’s room was on the way to the wing that she and Dean occupied so she stopped there first. The door was shut and she could hear Sam coughing behind it. Tentatively, she knocked on the door.

“Sam? Are you decent?” A few more coughs met her ears before the door was pulled open. He looked terrible. The dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes contrasted against his sickly pale pallor. Sweat beaded across his forehead, adding to his overall languid appearance. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jessica brought the back of her hand up to his forehead and through the sticky perspiration she could tell he was feverish. “You need to take an aspirin and bring that temperature down. I’ll get you some in a minute. Let me change your bed linens; I’m doing the whites today.”

"Jess, you don’t have to do that, I can get it,” he tried to protest, but he teetered as he walked over to the bed and had to catch himself on the sink.

“Seriously, Sam, you need to rest today. We don’t need you to fall over and knock yourself out and make things worse,” she talked as she removed the sheets and tossed them into the laundry bin, “Your brother and I are worried about you.” Sam began to protest, but she cut him off before he could get his excuses out, “You are most definitely not fine, so stop acting like you are.” The bed was now bare to the mattress, so she pulled a fresh set of sheets off the bottom shelf of the cart and set about remaking the bed.

Sam walked around to the other side of the bed and helped her pull the fitted sheet in place. “Look, I appreciate that you and Dean want to take care of me, but I can’t just sit on the bench because I’m not feeling well. These trials are important, finding Kevin is important, and I’ve got to do something to help or I’m going to go insane.” He wobbled again and then leaned up against the nightstand.

Jessica went about finishing up with the top sheet and the blanket. “Listen, Sam, I get it. You and Dean are always in the middle of some crisis or another, but you need to take care of yourself. Do you even have any leads yet?”

He shook his head, “No, not yet.”

“Well, then take it easy today okay? Please?”

Sam sighed but conceded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll get some rest this morning and I’ll stick to the research later on; nothing too taxing.”

Jessica finished tucking the ends of the blanket under the edges of the mattress and walked over to Sam, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him into a comforting hug. She felt his hands slide around her back, returning the hug. “I’ll get you some aspirin to keep in here. Take a few and go back to sleep on your fresh, clean sheets and I’ll come by and check on you later. I promise I’ll help Dean with the research while you’re resting. You won’t lose any time trying to find Kevin. Let me pick up the slack for you. It’s the least I can do.”

“You already do too much for us,” he countered, but he was already following her orders and getting comfortable on the bed.

Jessica kissed his cheek and left with the promise of returning with his medicine. She made her way around the corner and down the hall, stopping at her own room and making short work of the sheets on her bed, before knocking lightly on Dean’s door. There wasn’t an answer, but when she tried turning the door knob she found it was locked. Knocking again, she called out his name. It took a few minutes to get a reply, but finally Dean opened the door. He looked almost as disheveled as Sam, only it was clear he wasn’t so much sick as that she had woken him up.

“What’s the matter? Is Sam okay?”

“I’m sorry I woke you, Dean. I thought you’d be up by now!”

Dean yawned and asked, “What time is it?”

“It’s nine o’clock. You guys are usually up earlier than this for breakfast,” she replied, “I ate by myself this morning.”

Stretching, Dean apologized, “I’m sorry. I was up late last night trying to track down Kevin. Sam wasn’t up early?”

“Nope. He slept in too. Although, he looked like he really needed it. I’m changing the bed linens,” she gestured towards his bed and he stepped aside to let her in before she continued, “He looked like death warmed over. Like, literally! He was burning up! I told him to go back to sleep. After I get this stuff in the wash I’ll make him some chicken noodle soup.”

“Have you even seen him eat lately?” Dean asked, clearly worried.

Jessica stopped what she was doing to think about it. “You know, I haven’t seen him eat since Charlie left.”

“That’s it, he’s gonna have to let us take care of him. I can’t have him working himself to death and trying to go hunting like this. He’s gonna get himself killed!”

“I already laid down the law,” she said, “I told him I’d help you find Kevin while he rests. I’m really starting to worry about him, Dean.”

Dean ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes in thought. “You know what, don’t worry about the soup. I’ll make him our dad’s famous Cure All Kitchen Sink Stew. That ought to do the trick.”

Jessica tossed the last of his sheets into the laundry bin. “Do I even want to know what’s in that?” she asked.

“Probably not,” he replied.

Jessica grimaced, left him to it, and got Sam his aspirin. When she got to his room he was fast asleep, so she left the pills on the bedside table with a note for him to take it when he woke up. She spent the rest of the morning finishing up the laundry and then headed into the library to help Dean with some research. There was still not a word from Kevin, and they had called every hunter they knew trying to find out if Garth had made contact with anyone yet. So far, their contacts had just about the same amount of info as they did, which was zip!

It was about two o’clock in the afternoon when Sam finally rolled out of bed and into the library with them. He looked more rested, but he was still coughing and drained of color. He had a blanket wrapped around him and he shivered every few minutes. Jessica checked to see if he was still feverish, but he was just clammy and cold now. She tried to convince him to go back to bed but he refused, instead he took a seat at the table in the war room and poured through some of the files they had on angels in the archives. Dean gave Jessica a look and then headed into the kitchen to plate up some of his dad’s remedy for his brother.

Jessica left Sam alone to do what he wanted. Clearly he wasn’t going to listen to her and his brother, and she didn’t want to keep fighting him on it. He was a grown man and he could make his own decisions. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to keep worrying about him, but she wasn’t going to try and force the issue either. She went back to Sam’s laptop, which she had borrowed that morning to monitor the cameras around the cargo ship they had been keeping Kevin in before he took off. It wasn’t like they still held on to hope that Kevin would suddenly return to his hide out, but they didn’t exactly have any new leads to check into, so it was something to keep them occupied in the meantime.

It wasn’t long before Dean returned with the Cure-All-Stew, which he basically tried to force on his brother. Sam was still resistant, and Dean went off on another tirade about how Sam needed to let them care for him. But Sam calmly responded by explaining that this wasn’t the kind of sickness that could be healed by some soup and a few pills. This illness was a result of the trials that he was undergoing, and although she didn’t want to believe that he might not get better, Sam had a point. Jessica just had to have faith that Sam and Dean would find a way to get him through this. It just worried her that it might be at the expense of one or both of their lives.

Watching the brothers argue had diverted her attention from the computer in front of her until it dinged, alerting them all to an incoming email. She looked over at the screen. “Um, guys…it’s an email from Kevin!” Jessica stood up to get out of the way.

Both Sam and Dean made their way up the steps to the library and Dean leaned over to click it open. It was a video link. There was Kevin staring right into the camera, seemingly still in the cargo ship where they had seen him last. But as they watched the video, the realization that this was not something that was just made settled in. They all stood there watching in shocked silence as Kevin told them of his fate. He had set this up to send if something happened to him. He was dead. Through angry tears, Kevin told them that he uploaded and sent them all his notes and that he was sorry he couldn’t do his job. The video ended, and for a moment they all just stood there in silence.

“Dammit!” Dean suddenly shouted, violently swiping some books off the table behind them and onto the floor with a bang. Jessica squeaked, jumping in surprise. Then she and Sam turned to watch Dean walk away in anger.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Jessica announced before following him down the corridor to his room. He had just slammed his door shut when she rounded the corner. With a heavy sigh she made her way to his door and knocked tentatively. “Dean? Can I come in?”

There was no answer.

Jessica took a chance and tried the door knob; it wasn’t locked. She opened the door just in time to see a beer bottle fly by her head and shatter against the wall next to her. She squealed for the second time. “Jesus, Dean are you trying to kill me?”

Dean’s eyes widened in alarm, but then his face fell and he sank down onto the end of his bed, burying his face in his hands.

Jessica slowly made her way over to the bed, sitting next to him and wrapping her arm around his back, her head tilted to rest on his shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay,” was all she could manage to say. She knew this wasn’t going to do any good in consoling him, but she was at a loss for words. Even though she hadn’t met Kevin, she knew enough about him from watching the show back in her world that she was feeling the loss too.

Dean sniffed and brought his head up from his hands. “He was our responsibility and we let him down.”

A look of sympathy crossed Jessica’s face and she looked over at him, running her hand down the back of his head, soothingly. Dean just sat there with his eyes closed, fighting back tears, letting her pet him. “This isn’t your fault, Dean. You know that right?”

“Of course it’s my fault! We dragged him into this fight kicking and screaming. He was just a kid.”

Jessica placed both of her hands on Dean’s cheeks, cradling his face and turning him to face her. She looked deep into his eyes and tried her best to console him. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. I know you have this guilt-ridden martyr complex thing going on all the time, but none of it is your fault. How many times have you told me that this place is dangerous? You’re right! It is dangerous, and you and Sam and all the other hunters do their best to make it safer every day. But you can’t win every battle, and you can’t blame yourself every time something goes wrong. It is not your fault, Dean.”

He shook his head, trying to get away, but Jessica gripped his face tighter, holding him there. 

“Stop! You are a good man. Dare I say the best man I have every known, and I’m not going to let you beat yourself up over this. Kevin didn’t have a choice. He was a prophet; he was chosen. Did you do that to him? Huh?”

Dean tried to pull away again, “Jess, don’t.”

She wouldn’t let go, “You didn’t, Dean. God did, or whoever, but it certainly wasn’t up to you.” Jessica looked deep into his eyes, welled-up with tears just waiting to fall. She hated that he carried all this weight on his shoulders. “You’re a hero, Dean. You’re _my_ hero.” Jessica took a shaky breath, partly from the emotion that was swirling around her and partly because she was finally saying the thing she always wanted to say to Dean Winchester. He _was_ her hero, even before she knew he was real.

They sat there for a moment, looking intensely at each other. Jessica’s hands still held his face firmly and before she even realized what she was doing, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, but he found himself wrapping his hand around the back of her head to keep her close, closing his eyes and working his lips against hers. It was just a few seconds, but for the moment they had let go of any awkwardness that might arise from such an intimate act and kissed each other tenderly.

When they pulled away, the corner of Dean’s mouth turned up in a half-smile, but he quickly regained his composure, clearing his throat and finally pulling away from her. He stood up and looked around the room trying to find a momentary distraction; anything that he could do make the air between them feel less tense. “Thanks for the pep-talk. I just need a minute.”

“Dean?” Jessica said, standing up and reaching out to him.

He shrunk away from her a step, just out of reach. “Why don’t you go help Sammy dig through the notes Kevin sent? I’ll be out there in a minute.”

Jessica looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed by her actions. What was she thinking kissing him like that? If their relationship with each other wasn’t tricky before it certainly was going to be now! “Okay,” she finally replied, her voice a little shaky. She brought her eyes up to meet his and subconsciously bit her bottom lip. With her mind still reeling, her body took over and began marching her out the door. She stopped when she felt Dean’s hand catch her elbow.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, realizing how uncomfortable she was. He didn’t want her to think it was a big deal.

“I’ll be out there with Sam,” she said, without looking at him directly, and scuttled down the hallway towards the library again.

Twenty-two minutes into the research with Sam, and Dean finally made his way back into the Men of Letters Library. He was on the phone with Gale, another hunter, inquiring about Garth’s whereabouts again. He was still missing, and since they had tasked Garth with keeping an eye on Kevin in their absence, they still had nada in the way of information about what exactly happened. It was clear Dean was still upset. Not that Sam and Jess felt any differently, they just had plenty to keep them distracted.

Sam pulled some papers off the wireless printer he brought out to print off Kevin’s notes. He and Jessica were swimming in piles of paper, most of which looked like gibberish to them. They didn’t know how they were going to figure out the translations on the rest of the tablet. Hoping for a Hail Mary, Sam inquired if anyone had heard anything about a new prophet being activated after Kevin’s death, but there was no indication that one had. 

“We should have moved him here,” Dean said, lost in his own disgruntled contemplation.

Jessica and Sam made eye contact, commiserating with Dean’s feelings of helplessness after the fact. But there was no sense in wallowing now. They had a mountain of information to sort through that would hopefully mean that Kevin’s demise wasn’t in vain. Dean joined them, although it was clearly half-heartedly. Throughout the day, Jessica kept glancing up at Dean, partly to check on his mood and partly because she was still feeling a little self-conscious about what transpired earlier. He seemed to stay focused on the books in front of him, but when she looked away Dean would catch himself checking in on her.

Finally, Sam piped up with something of a lead. A symbol that Kevin had used to note when the Scribe of God made an entry in The Word piqued his interest. He remembered seeing it before in one of his college classes when he was at Stanford way back when; a Native-American symbol that loosely translated to “Messenger of God”. The meaning of the petroglyph took a second to sink in, but then Sam became extremely excited, insisting that this meant they needed to go find this tribe out in Colorado that the symbol belonged to.

Jessica could see the frustration roiling up inside Dean as his brother became more and more certain that this was the way to figure out what the third trial was.

“And you think that this, Metatron, is hiding out in the mountains with a bunch of Indians?” Dean challenged in disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah I do!” Sam remarked excitedly. He stopped and thought about what Dean said and corrected him. “You’re not really supposed to say ‘Indians’, it’s…we should go.”

Dean turned to Jessica as Sam walked away briskly to get his stuff packed for the trip. “He is delirious! Are you seeing this?”

“Yeah, he seems a little off,” Jessica conceded.

“A little?” he asked with frustration, “You know what? I can’t do this on my own. I can’t follow up on this flimsy little lead and keep an eye on him.”

Jessica took a deep breath, “Well, I don’t think you are going to dissuade him from going.”

“I know,” Dean agreed, “I need you to come with us. Keep an eye on him while I’m working the case.”

She slowly looked up at him in disbelief, unsure that she heard him right. “You want me to go on a hunt with you?”

“Not to hunt, just to stay with him while I check things out on my own.” He wanted to make sure he was clear that she wasn’t going to get caught up in any kind of fray they might encounter while there.

A broad smile spread across Jessica’s face. “I’m gonna go pack a bag,” she said with excitement before rushing off towards here room.

“Yeah, I’m going to regret this,” Dean said aloud to himself, heading in the direction of his own room to gather his own things.

*****

It was only a six hour drive to the Two Rivers Hotel and Casino, and with Dean driving it only took about five. Jessica had sat in the back of Baby, hardly saying a word, afraid that Dean would suddenly change his mind about her going with them and turn around to take her back to the bunker. Sam had been going on and on about this Metatron character and how he thought this had to be the answer they were looking for. Jessica noticed that he kept getting louder and louder as the drive went on, almost as if they were in a crowded bar or club that was blasting music. But Dean kept the volume on the radio down to a low murmur, enough that they could still hear and identify the music playing, but definitely not loud enough to warrant Sam’s frenetic shouting. Dean had glanced back at her in the rearview a few times as Sam went on and on, hoping that it wasn’t just him that noticed his brother’s odd behavior.

After coming around a mountain pass, the enormous stone exterior of the hotel came into view. They pulled into the parking lot, only two beat up looking trucks parked out front other than the Impala. The doors creaked as the three of them got out and stretched their legs. “This place is enormous!” Jessica remarked, as they headed for the entrance. Once inside, it was clear that they were just about the only guests that were going to be occupying the huge space.

Past the foyer to the right there was a set of double doors with a sign that said “Front Desk” with an arrow. Jessica and Sam followed Dean through the doors into a dimly lit room with a gigantic bar. It didn’t look like the place was even open it was so dark and empty, the only signs of life were the the electronic sounds coming from several slot machines that dotted the room. They meandered through the room to the reception desk where Dean rang the bell for assistance.

A gentleman of Native-American decent came out from a door behind the counter with a look of disbelief on his face. It was as if he was confused about why someone would be ringing that bell.

“Hi,” Dean greeted him with his usual charm, “uh, we’d like a room?” The man just stood there, looking back and forth among the three of them. The silence was awkward. “Here, please,” Dean clarified. The man, who still looked dazed and confused, turned to grab the guest book. Dean turned around and looked at Jessica, raising his arms as if to ask “Am I speaking Portuguese?”. Jessica just shrugged and side-eyed Sam, who was acting funny again.

“Do you have a suite available?” Dean was asking the guy behind the desk, “You know something with two doubles and a pull-out maybe?”

Jessica let Dean take care of the check-in and kept her focus on Sam, who was now walking away distractedly towards a room full of Blackjack tables. He cocked his head to the side and seemed to be listening intently to something. What it was, Jessica didn’t know, as there was nothing but more awkward silence. 

Sam turned back toward them, “Did you hear that?”

Jessica raised her eyebrows at him trying to listen for whatever he was talking about, and Dean brought his head up from signing the guest book distractedly. “Hear what?” Dean asked, but Sam just turned back around to stare off into the other room again. Rolling his eyes, Dean turned back to the hotel clerk and covered for his brother’s strange behavior. “He has the flu,” he announced, a lame excuse, and one that the clerk didn’t seem to buy.

The clerk handed over their set of keys and directed them to the elevator back in the foyer. When they reached their room on the third floor, Sam swayed a bit on his feet landing on the bed farthest from the door. “Well, I guess he picked his bed,” Dean said, half-jokingly, “Jess, you take the other one. I’ll sleep on the sofa here.” He dropped his and Jessica’s bags, which he had retrieved from the car after they checked-in, and placed them on the luggage rack in the corner, then handed her a set of keys. He looked over at his brother who was alternately squinting and rubbing his face. “You okay, Sam?”

“What? Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m just a little tired.” He responded, clearly not okay.

“Right…well, why don’t you get some rest? I’m gonna check out the hotel see what I can find, maybe find some place to eat later.” Dean announced. He turned to Jessica, who was looking at him as if Sam was crazy, and gestured at his brother, silently communicating that she should stay here and babysit. She nodded back at him with understanding before he headed back out the door.

Sam seemed to be having a hard time sitting up, falling back and then jolting back up again as he realized he was nodding off. Then the coughing fit hit him. 

Jessica noticed the blood that came out onto his hand and headed into the bathroom to get him a tissue. She handed it to him and he thanked her, or at least tried to while he was seemingly hacking up his lungs. “Do you need some water?” Jessica asked, and took the paper cap off one of the glasses that was laid out on the table when he nodded. Turning on the sink in the bathroom, she filled the glass and brought it back out to him. Sam sipped it appreciatively and then set the remainder on the bedside table while his coughing fit started to subside.

“What’s going on with you today, Sam? You seem to have gone from bad to better to worse since this morning.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said lying down on his side.

Jessica placed her hand on his forehead to check his temperature again. “You’re a little warm, but I don’t think you have a fever. Go to sleep for a bit. I’m gonna read some of Kevin’s notes again while Dean’s gone.” Sam followed her instructions, although it wasn’t like he was much up for fighting her on it. He looked terrible, even worse than before which was really saying something. Jessica checked on him after she heard him snoring lightly, and then went back to the couch to deal with Kevin’s translations. Whatever patterns Kevin had discovered were clearly lost on her, and try as she might she couldn’t make heads or tails of it all. 

Sam coughed again, waking him up after only ten minutes of sleep, and he reached over for the rest of the water on the table. As he was doing so, Dean walked back in with a few pamphlets in his hand.

“Regular tourist mecca we’ve got here,” he said closing the door behind him, “we’re the only guests in the whole place. Last entry in the registry was in ’06.” He sat down on the edge of Jessica’s bed.

Jessica was about to tell Dean how much progress she didn’t make with Kevin’s scribblings when Sam suddenly broke out into a story about their father taking them to the Grand Canyon when they were little and the flatulent donkey that Dean rode. Dean barely remembered what he was talking about, but Sam seemed to be seriously amused by the memory, laughing and remarking that his brother rode “a farty donkey”.

Dean looked over at Jessica, who just shrugged at his brother’s insanity. “Okay, uh I’m going to check out the Two Rivers Traveling Museum and Trading Post,” Dean declared, joining Jessica in ignoring Sam’s lunacy.

Sam sat up abruptly, announcing that he was going to go on his own mission. “Yeah, I’m gonna, I’m gonna follow the hotel manager, Dr. Scowly-Scowl. He’s like a villain from Scooby Doo.”

Dean sighed deeply, laying down the law with Sam that he was going to stay there and get some sleep. Sam changed his mind abruptly and agreed that that was the best thing for him to do too.

Jessica and Dean exchanged bewildered looks before she stood up and asked if he wanted her to come with him. He looked back over at his brother who was already snoring again, and said, “No. You stay here and make sure he doesn’t get himself into any trouble. I’ll pick up some dinner on my way back. What do you want?”

“I don’t care, just get me whatever you’re having,” she replied.

“Double bacon cheeseburger extra onions?” he asked with a bit of surprised reverence.

She turned up her nose, “No onions. They give me indigestion. Get me fries too though? Oh and a Cherry Coke?” She smiled her most charming smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Dean deadpanned, “Alright, I’ll be back. Don’t leave this room!”

Jessica saluted at him before he left, and she continued to try and decipher some more of the translation notes as Sam slept. After about forty-five minutes her eyes were swimming, the intensity with which she was glaring at the unintelligible symbols making her head ache. On top of that she was feeling a bit sleepy from being up early and driving all day. Putting the cluster of paper aside, she checked once more on Sam who seemed to be out cold, and then laid down on the other bed to rest her eyes. Unknowingly, she must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew she was startled awake by a loud thud. Sitting up like a spring, Jessica looked around for what caused the noise, and it didn’t take long for her to find its source.

Sam was lying on the floor in front of her bed, his face and hair damp with sweat and the skin around his eyes as red as glowing hot coals. Jessica jumped off the bed and to his side, trying to wake him up. It wasn’t long before she heard Dean’s garbled voice coming from Sam’s phone that had fallen to the floor and landed just under his head. She picked it up and alerted Dean to Sam’s condition with frantic urgency. “Dean, I can’t wake him! He’s burning up!”

“What happened?” Dean returned her urgency.

“I don’t know, Sam was asleep so I laid down to rest my eyes for a bit. I just woke up when he fell to the ground! What do I do?!”

“I’m on my way,” Dean reassured, “how bad is the fever?”

“Bad. He’s hot to the touch!”

Dean’s tried to keep his cool, if only to keep Jessica calm. “Go get as many buckets of ice as you can from the ice machine and put it in the bathtub. Then turn on the cold water and get an ice bath going. I’ll be there in a few minutes to help you get him in there. If he’s that badly over-heated we’re gonna have freeze it out of him.”

Jessica hung up and did as she was told, running down the hall several times and filling the bucket over and over again until she had enough ice to cover the bottom of the tub. She was in the process of filling the tub with water when she heard Dean finally walk in. He gave Sam a slap to the face to try and wake him up, but it didn’t work. She saw him take a thermometer out of his back pocket, the same one he pulled out earlier that morning at the bunker, and got a reading. “Jessica! Get in here and help me carry him to the tub!” he barked an order.

Dean turned Sam over onto his back and held him under his armpits, and Jessica grabbed onto his ankles. On the count of three they lifted him, Dean holding most of his weight, and they managed to get him into the bathtub. “We’ve got to submerge him, his temperature is way too high. If we don’t get this down now he’s gonna die!” Dean exclaimed. They both pushed him under and then waited for a sign of something, anything.

A few breathless moments passed before Jessica spoke up, “Dean he’s gonna drown if we leave him in there!”

“Shhh, just give it a minute!” He shouted.

It was as if Sam had heard their panicked conversation and finally he woke up, shooting up out of the water like a lightning bolt and gasping for air. He hoisted himself up and out of the ice cold water with a look of derision at the two of them.

“Take it easy,” Dean demanded, trying to calm his brother.

Jessica grabbed a towel and passed it to Dean, which he then wrapped around Sam’s shivering upper body.

“We found you on the floor passed out. Your temperature was a hundred and seven, we had to force it down, or you were toast.” Dean explained.

Sam wasted no time getting comfy, instead he raved about how Metatron was there in the hotel with them. Most of what he was saying didn’t make much sense, but Sam said he could show Dean where he was. He had found the manager delivering books outside one of the rooms. That’s where Metatron had to be. 

Something that Sam said clicked with what Dean had learned from his visit to the museum. There was a legend about the Indian’s gifting the Messenger of God with stories. “Jess, go get a change of clothes out of Sammy’s bag,” Dean asked as he continued to help his brother dry off.

Jessica rummaged through Sam’s stuff and pulled out a new pair of boxer briefs, jeans, and a striped button-down and handed them to Dean. They shut the bathroom door for a second while he changed; Jessica waiting outside in the room. When they emerged, Dean grabbed some clean, dry socks as well and told his brother to get his boots on while he cleaned up the mess they made in the bathroom.

“Dean, hand me that hairdryer under the sink. I’ll get his hair dry while your doing that,” Jessica suggested.

Once they got Sam back to normal, he and Dean started to head out to follow up on this insane theory that he was so convinced of. Dean stopped before following his brother out the door. “Your food’s on the table. Go ahead and eat and we’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Be careful,” Jessica warned.

“Careful’s my middle name,” Dean joked and then shut the door behind him, leaving Jessica alone.

*****

It had been hours since the boys left, the empty wrappers from Jessica’s double bacon cheeseburger long since discarded in the trash can. The clock on the bedside table was flashing 12:00 intermittently. _Great,_ Jessica thought and dug her cell phone out of her bag to check the time. Sam and Dean had left the room a little after six o’clock, now it was 10:30. _What’s taking them so long,_ she worried. Jessica began pacing the room. She knew that Dean told her stay put, and she was going to…probably…maybe. What if this Metatron person had done something to them? What if they were dead already? Was she just going to wait around while they were being tortured and killed somewhere else in the hotel? No. She had to go and find them. She waited long enough.

Just as she grabbed her set of the room keys the door suddenly opened and Dean waltzed in.

“I was just coming to rescue you guys!” She announced with a sigh, both anxious and relieved.

“The hell you were!” Dean said taken aback by her boldness, “I told you to stay put!”

Jessica challenged him back, only a little bit, “Well what the hell took so long? I was getting worried! Again!”

Dean smiled, “We had something important to do.” He stepped aside and Sam walked through the door, his arm slung around Kevin Tran, both of them holding each other up shakily.

“Kevin?” Jessica looked at him in amazement.

The prophet looked up at her, “Who are you?”

Dean grabbed his brother and helped him over to his bed before replying, “That’s a long story, but she’s a friend. She’s been helping us look for you.”

Kevin looked a little worse for wear. “Oh,” he remarked casually, “hi.”

Jessica smiled at him, “Hey, it’s great to meet you!” She turned to Dean confused, “So, what happened? Or, I mean, how did this happen? I though he was dead!” Kevin looked up at her bewildered. “Sorry, I mean, we got your message. We thought…”

“Crowley,” was all Dean said in way of answer, “Doesn’t matter, we got him back, and we know what the third trial is.”

A look of alarm crossed Jessica’s face, “Sam didn’t do it already, did he?” She turned to look at his limp frame on the bed. He somehow managed to look worse than when he was passed out before.

Dean glanced back at his brother with agitation, “No, he was vibrating.”

“W-what?” Jessica stuttered.

Sam piped up without moving, “Resonating. I was resonating.”

“Whatever the difference is.” Dean snarked.

“Um, someone want to fill me in here?” Jessica asked.

Dean relayed the events that she missed, about meeting Metatron, how he pulled Kevin out of Crowley’s grasp, and the riddle that was the third trial.

“So, you have to _cure_ a demon? Is that even possible?” Jessica questioned.

“Yeah, that’s what Metatron said the last trial was. Kevin confirmed it,” Dean explained, “I don’t know how we’re gonna do that, but that’s what it is.”

“I guess we’re gonna be hitting the books when we get back?”

“Looks like,” Dean answered, “For now let’s get some sleep. Kevin you can take the couch, I’ll just…” Dean looked around the room for another option, “I guess I’m bunking in Baby tonight.”

Jessica looked at Sam spread out on the other bed and Kevin who looked like he could use a good night’s sleep as well. A thought occurred to her; a bold thought. Her mouth formed the words before her brain could think through the implications. “You can sleep with me.”

A look of surprise flashed across Dean’s face, but he quickly regained his machismo. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo, I’ll be fine in the Impala.”

Much to her surprise, she kept on it, “Don’t be ridiculous! There’s plenty of room. Plus, it’s cold out there.”

Dean thought about it, “You sure?”

“Yes, it’s no big deal, Dean.”

They spent the next few minutes getting ready for bed and when they were pretty much settled, Dean switched off the lights and crawled into the bed with Jessica. Making sure he stayed as close the edge as possible, he tried to get comfortable on the old, lumpy mattress. He still had his jeans on. Both he and Jessica lay there next to each other, still and silent, both afraid to make any noise that might require them to talk. Jessica’s stomach was all fluttering wings, knowing that Dean was lying so close. After their kiss earlier that morning she may have allowed herself to fantasize that he might actually be interested in her. She was sure it was all in her imagination, and she knew she should just go to sleep, but it was hard to focus on that when she could hear him breathing next to her. 

Dean too was feeling a bit, was the word “uncomfortable”? No, not quite that, but he certainly wasn’t at ease. He could feel the warmth radiating off her body next to him, and he had to fight an urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. She was too young, too innocent; she was something to be protected. He couldn’t allow himself to see her as anything more than a friend or a little sister even. Trying to convince himself that the desire he felt at the moment was nothing more than an errant need for a good no-strings-attached romp, something he could never do with her, Dean turned over on his side, his back to her. He’d hit the bar when they got back, find himself a good one-nighter to calm his jagged nerves.

Lying there in the dark, he thought about all the things that had happened in the past few months. Shoulders tense, he began to worry about what this last trial would mean for his brother; would mean for all of them. But nearby, Sam was snoring lightly, Kevin was out like a light, and Jessica was breathing the heavy breath of sleep. He was the only one awake at the moment, the only one who had to carry the burden. Behind him he could feel Jessica shift, her small hand sliding across his torso and her body flush against his back. Was she awake? He didn’t dare move, afraid that if she wasn’t he would wake her and make things awkward. Listening intently, he determined she was still asleep when she had rolled over. Relieved, he allowed himself to unclench, his muscles softening with the heat of her body pressed close, and for the moment he let the weight go.


	11. "Bridge Over Troubled Water"

It was still dark out when Sam shook Jessica awake. She forgot how the boys tend to only sleep about four hours when they are on a case before heading to their next destination. This time they were headed home. Dean was anxious to get on the road, since they had to drive five hours past Lebanon to drop Kevin off where he could retrieve the other half of the Demon Tablet and the rest of his things from Garth’s boat. Jessica insisted on a quick shower to wake up a little bit first. The water alternated between hot and cold, never reaching or staying at the temperature of her liking, so she made it really quick. She didn’t bother blow-drying her hair, instead opting to pull it back into a messy bun while it was still damp. When she finished brushing her teeth and packing up her bag again, Dean was about ready to bust out the door. She took a little extra time acting as if she couldn’t find her phone charger, even though it was already in her bag. She couldn’t help it, she had to antagonize him every now and then.

“Oh, there it is! Already packed!” she announced cheerily.

“Great, can we go now please?” Dean grumped.

Jessica had to get one last dig in, “What’s the matter, Dean? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Actually, it was the complete opposite. That was the best night’s sleep Dean had gotten in a very long time. Once he let his mind get quiet, he slept like a baby. They got Kevin back, they knew how to shut the gates to Hell, and for once he felt like there may be an end in sight. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Jessica was pressed up against him all night either. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

Dean hoisted Jessica’s bag over his shoulder and the four of them shuffled out into the early morning darkness and climbed sleepily into the car. Kevin and Jessica took the back seat, and Sam rode shotgun as usual. The Impala’s engine roared to life and the four of them were on the highway in no time. Kevin leaned up against the window and closed his eyes, falling asleep within minutes. Apparently, Jessica wasn’t the only one who needed more than four hours to function. She too tried to get some more rest, and Dean and Sam were relatively quiet so it wasn’t that difficult to get a few more hours in.

After dropping Kevin off, they all stopped at a diner for some grub before getting back on the road again to head home. It was dark again before they made it to the final stretch of highway that lead back into Lebanon. Finding that she was sleepy again, this time from traveling all day rather than lack of actual sleep, Jessica began nodding off again in the back seat. Sam and Dean were talking loudly up front about the third trial and how Sam was feeling now that they had a direction to go in. Jessica only managed to doze in and out lightly, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation, before being jolted back into full awareness when Dean slammed on the breaks and sent Baby spinning sideways on her wheels. She braced herself against the door to avoid banging her head against the side window.

“What the hell?!” Jessica exclaimed after they came to a stop. All it took was a glance out onto the street to see why Dean sent them all careening to an abrupt halt. There was a body in the road, lying there, looking as though it had already been run over. Both Dean and Sam stepped out of the car to get a closer look.

“Cas?” Dean queried, stupefied by what he was seeing. He and his brother ran over to see if he was alright. His face was caked in dried blood, and his white shirt was soaked through with gore. “Cas, what happened?”

“Crowley, he took the Angel Tablet, we have to get it back,” he insisted, trying to get on his feet as if he were about to go right that second.

“Woah, woah, take it easy,” Dean cautioned, just a twinge of anger coming through in his voice, “You’re in no condition to do anything right now. C’mon, let’s get you into the car. We’ll get you cleaned up back at the bunker.”

“Dean, we can’t let Crowley have the tablet, I need to protect it.” Cas pressed.

Dean snarked, “Well you should have thought about that when you ran with it.”

Jessica had made her way over by that point, her first meeting with Castiel sullied by his condition and Dean’s foul mood. “Is he alright?” she asked.

“Who’s this?” Cas inquired.

Jessica was about to introduce herself when Dean interrupted. “Don’t worry about it right now. Everybody back in the car. We’re going home.”

*****

When they finally reached the bunker, Jessica went about setting up a spare room for Castiel to stay in. It looked like he might be with them for awhile as he recovered. She helped Sam stitch Cas’s wound up in the infirmary; it wasn’t the ideal way to learn how to suture a wound but it might come in handy for her to know, since the Winchester’s always seem to come back from a case battered and broken. Then at least they wouldn’t have to perform the procedure themselves, and she could apply the proper antibiotic ointments instead of them pouring whiskey over it like they normally do. Sam’s hands were a bit shaky, still not feeling altogether right from the trials, so Jessica finished up the last couple of stiches on her own.

Cas went to his room to rest and hopefully heal up faster, and Sam immediately hit the books trying to determine exactly what the tablet meant about curing a demon. Both Jessica and Dean tried to convince him to sleep but he wasn’t having it. He was going to figure out how to finish this thing if it killed him. Dean finally gave up and went to bed to get some shut-eye, and Jessica took inventory of the kitchen before she turned in. They were running extremely low on supplies. With everything going on she hadn’t had much time to go on a grocery run, and the boys didn’t want her to keep using the same fraudulent card at the local grocery store in case she got caught. Cash was tight, so they made do for the past few weeks with leftovers and what little was left of the staple items, sending someone out to get take-out every now and then. She would have to go pick some stuff up the next day though, so she wrote out a list of everything she would need for a few weeks’ worth of meals before turning in herself.

The following morning, Dean was up and at ‘em early helping Sam dig up any information they could find on demons and demonic possession in the Men of Letters archives. Sam had only slept an hour or two before getting back up, taking a shower, and setting back to work. Dean wanted his brother to take a break, but Sam contended that the only thing that was going to make him feel better was finishing the trials. Knowing they were in the homestretch, Dean didn’t bug him too much about it, instead he made his way to the kitchen to get Sam something to eat. The man had to keep up his strength if he was going to make it through the last trial. As he was walking out, Cas came in through the library, saying good morning, but Dean ignored him and continued on his way. He was still pissed at him for what he did.

When Dean entered the kitchen, he found that there wasn’t much left in the way of actual food. They knew that Jessica had been making do with what they had the past few weeks, but he didn’t realize it was this bad. He would make a run later to help her out a little. She had been taking care of them since she got there, so it was the least he could do to return the favor. Jessica already had a ton on her plate, figuratively speaking of course, because literally all he could find to feed Sam right now was what was left of the beef jerky and a couple of peanut butter cups. He grabbed the last bottle of Margiekugel’s and set everything on a tray to take back out to his brother in the war room. For a guy who could wallow in self-loathing he sure could make lemonade out of rocks sometimes. Without breaking his stride, and simultaneously and very pointedly ignoring the fact that Cas was in the room, he presented his brother with the tray of junk as if it were a four-course meal at a Michelin 3-star restaurant! He even performed a taste test of the beer to make sure it wasn’t skunked.

Sam looked at the plate in front of him in disbelief, “A half drunk beer, jerky, and three peanut butter cups?”

“Yeah, we’re…we’re running a little low…I’ll make a run,” Dean said by way of apology.

Jessica happened to walk in just as Dean made his announcement. “I was gonna do that,” she said, “I made a list last night.” Jess held the list up for emphasis, but Dean snatched it out of her hand.

“I got it,” Dean offered.

Cas got up from his seat. “Dean, I can go with you.” His suggestion was met with an icy silence while Dean continued to put his jacket on. “Dean? I’m sorry.”

Hearing the apology, Dean turned around and finally faced Castiel. “For what?” he asked knowingly.

Cas thought a moment and responded, “For everything!”

“Everything,” Dean restated mockingly, “Like, uh, like ignoring us?”

Sam and Jessica exchanged uneasy glances amidst the tension that was slowly swallowing the room.

Dean continued, “Or like bolting off with the Angel Tablet and then losing it, cause you didn’t trust me? You didn’t trust me?”

“Yes,” Cas replied looking bashful.

“Yeah, no that’s not gonna cut it. Not this time. So, you can take your little apology and you can cram it up your ass.”

“Dean,” Jessica grabbed his arm to get him to stop berating Castiel. The angel’s face full of sadness and regret was too much for her to handle. She knew that Dean felt betrayed, but he was going to regret saying these things later.

“Dean, I thought I was doing the right thing,” Cas explained.

“Yeah, you always do,” Dean would not relent.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat and changed the subject, delivering them all from all the uncomfortable angst. “Hey, uh, do we have a room 7B?”

Dean looked at his brother. “I don’t know, why?”

“There’s reference to a file that might be stored there,” Sam continued, “It might be helpful with this ‘cure a demon’ thing.”

Dean sighed heavily, handing the shopping list back to Jessica. “Sorry, kiddo, I’ll get it next time.”

“It’s okay, I was going to go anyway,” Jessica shrugged, “Any chance I can take Baby?”

The look Dean gave her told her all she needed to know.

“Fine,” she griped, “I’ll walk…again! We’re going to need to work on getting me a car.”

Castiel, feeling ashamed about letting Dean down, jumped at the chance to start redeeming himself. “I can take you there,” he offered.

“Cas are you sure you’re up for that?” Jessica asked, “You’re still healing!”

“I still have my wings. It’ll be fine.”

Dean stared him down, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It’ll be okay, Dean,” Jessica vouched for Cas, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to teleport.”

His eyes never leaving Cas’s, Dean gave him a final warning, “Don’t do anything stupid and get her killed. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Dean. I’ll keep her safe, of course,” Castiel assured him.

Dean stared at him a little longer, just to prove a point, before heading into the corridor to start looking for the mystery room. Sam followed him, leaving Cas and Jess to make their run.

“Don’t let him get to you, Cas,” Jessica assured him, “He’s mad, but he’ll get over it. He always does.”

Castiel’s eyes were still sad, but he checked to make sure she was ready and then placed two fingers on her forehead. 

In a blink of an eye, the two of them were standing in the alley next to the supermarket. It took a minute for the dizzy feeling to subside, so Jessica just stood there staring at her feet to make sure she was still on them. “That was, weird, and a bit…nauseating,” she declared.

“You get used to it eventually,” Cas offered, “I should have warned you to bend your knees.”

Jessica took a few deep breaths and then looked up at Cas. “I think I’m okay now. C’mon, let’s get this done and get back.”

After picking up a cart at the front of the store, Jessica set about systematically crossing items of her shopping list. Castiel followed her through the store, pushing the cart and examining each item she placed into it quizzically. He asked a lot of questions about what each item was for. Jess wasn’t sure if he was really that clueless about grocery shopping or if he was just trying to make polite conversation. The two of them hadn’t really talked all that much since they met, and things were awkward around the bunker with Dean giving Cas the cold shoulder.

“Are you and Dean moving the furniture around?” Cas asked suddenly. Jessica stared at him quizzically, not quite understanding. “Um, let me rephrase that. Are you two having intercourse?”

“What?!” Jessica fumbled the package of yoghurt she had picked up to examine, dropping it and watching it roll away under the case, “No! I’m just…did they not tell you my story?”

Cas shook his head.

Jessica gave him the shortest rendition of the tale that she could without leaving out anything important. When she finished she asked awkwardly, “What made you think we were…I mean did he say something?”

“He seems very protective of you,” Cas proclaimed, “I just assumed.”

“Dean’s protective of everybody,” Jessica reasoned, “Trust me I’m not anyone special to him.”

“But you want to be?” Castiel asked.

Jessica spoke quickly, anxious to change the subject, “Well, looks like we got everything we need. Time to check out and head back. C’mon, let’s go.” She turned quickly leaving Cas confused and headed for the checkout line.

After returning to the bunker, Cas was helping Jessica put the groceries away when Dean walked into the kitchen. He stared at Jessica for a moment, as if he were looking her over for any damage, and then turned to rifle through the shelf where they kept the dry goods, still avoiding eye contact with Cas. “Hey, didn’t we have some popcorn left?” he asked as he shuffled around all the food Jess had just put up and organized.

“It’s on the shelf below that one, at the back,” she replied, “why?”

Dean grabbed the Jiffy Pop by the handle and turned back around to face her. “It’s movie time.”

When the popcorn was done, all four of them sat around a table in the library while Sam loaded a reel onto an old projector. When it was all set up, Dean sent the popcorn around so everyone could grab a handful and they began watching the film that Sam had found in the storage room. When the movie came on it took a few seconds for the picture to come into focus, and the black and white images had that old-timey, grainy look to it. After a countdown a man appeared on camera, sitting on a staircase, smoking a cigarette. A woman was obviously filming as they could hear her voice just off screen. They began talking about some kind of new exorcism that was about to take place. The young priest was called into another room and as the camera followed they caught a glimpse of the woman who was filming in a mirror. Dean sat up straighter, leaning in to confirm if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

“Is that Abaddon?” Sam asked, somewhat alarmed.

Dean turned to look at him and the quickly looked back at the screen. “She’s not killy enough. That’s got to be the uh, the chick she possessed.”

As they continued to watch, they could hear screaming coming from off screen and eventually another priest was there, presumably the one in charge. Soon the camera panned to an old woman with black eyes, chained to the floor in a kneeling position. The demon was taunting the two priests and the girl who would have the unfortunate fate of become one herself. Jessica wondered if they weren’t going to witness her possession in this film.

“Hey, those chains look exactly like the ones in our dungeon,” Sam announced.

“In your what?” Both Cas and Jessica questioned simultaneously, but neither Sam nor Dean made any explanation, as they were watching what was unfolding on the screen with rapt attention.

A tense silence settled over the four of them as the exorcism went underway. The head priest and his assistant spoke the Latin exorcism, although it was not the same one Jessica had heard the boys use on numerous occasions, and then the former cut his hand and cupped it over the demon’s mouth, sending streams of light emanating from within. In a final bloody burst, the camera panned back to Not Abaddon’s face and then zoomed in on the body of the human the demon was possessing. Her chest had burst open, cracked ribs showing through her skin. 

The film ran off the projector then, leaving them in a hushed silence.

Dean was the first one to break it. “Well that was weird…with three exclamation points!”

“That wasn’t a normal exorcism,” Sam began, “They changed the words.”

Cas responded next, “I believe lustro is Latin for wash; cleanse.”

“Oh yeah, cause that was the most freaky thing, the vocabulary. What about the bloody high-five or the chest burster? Anything else on the film like director’s commentary? Sequel maybe?” Dean asked.

Jessica looked at Cas, who was seemingly getting tired of Dean’s derision. She frowned at Dean, but he ignored her, or at least didn’t see the disappointment she was displaying. He was being a little too hard on Cas. She knew Dean could hold onto a grudge as if his life depended on it, but it was getting a little uncomfortable for everyone else.

Sam busied himself looking up information on the two priests, finding out that the older one had died, but the younger one was still alive and was fulfilling his duties to God at a church in St. Louis. After talking it over they decided they needed to make the drive to see what kind of information they could wrangle out of him.

When Castiel stood up to join them Dean angrily told him to stay put.

“Dean, I just want to help!” Cas exclaimed in frustration.

“We don’t need your help!” Dean chided, “Just stay here and get better!”

Sam glanced awkwardly at both Jess and Castiel, but followed his brother out of the library to gather their things and head out on the road.

Castiel was left feeling bewildered by his friend’s anger, but Jessica tried to make him feel better by offering some kind words and a suggestion. “You know when Dean get’s cranky like this,” she said, “I usually bake him a pie. It always makes him more agreeable.”

“If I make him pie, he’ll forgive me?” Cas asked hopefully.

“It usually does the trick when we’re arguing,” Jessica responded, “Oh, shoot!”

“What?”

“I forgot to buy the stuff we’d need to make the pie,” Jessica replied.

Castiel’s eyes lit up, “I can go get it.”

“You know what,” she said, “don’t worry about baking him a pie. He’s just as happy with the store-bought kind.” Jessica dug out some cash from her back pocket that was left over change from their earlier run and handed it to Cas. “We’ll just go to the little convenience store around the corner and pick one up. I’ve got some cleaning up to do around here, but it can wait.”

“I could go by myself,” Cas offered.

Jessica shook her head, “No, that’s alright. I’ll go with you. I’m always cooped up in this place. It’s nice to get out every once in a while, and it’s nice to have some company too.” Besides, she had forgotten several items on her shopping list in her haste to get out of the store earlier and avoid the Dean topic.

“Thank you, Jessica. I’m glad that you are here to help keep Sam and Dean together. They so often need some nurturing in their lives, and it seems that you are a comfort to them.”

She blushed a little at the compliment. She never really paid much attention to it on the show, mostly because she was so enamored with Dean, but Cas had really beautiful blue eyes.

The two of them arrived at the corner store in an instant and headed inside. _Man,_ Jessica thought, _this teleporting business is the only way I want to get around anymore. It’s so convenient!_ “Alright, Cas, can you handle the pie and this half of the list? I’ll get the other half. Divide and conquer and we’ll get done quicker!”

“Yes, I can get…these items.” Cas deadpanned.

They went their separate ways to pick up the things they were missing, and Jessica was almost finished when a loud crash startled her from across the store. Cas had managed to knock over a shelf! She rushed to help the store clerk stand it back up and apologized profusely. She took Castiel by the arm and urged, “I think we have what we need. Let’s just pay and go.” Together they walked to the checkout and Cas put several items on the counter that weren’t on the list. The one that drew Jessica’s attention the most was the copy of “Busty Asian Beauties” he clearly bought to appease Dean. The sad part was that it would probably work. 

Cas pulled the now crumpled wad of cash that Jess had given him out of his coat pocket and placed it down on the counter in a heap. “I have money,” he declared to the bewildered kid who had been lucky enough to pull this shift. As the clerk began to ring them up, Castiel looked around for the item he had yet to find. He looked over at the empty pie display. “Where is the pie?”

The kid, just wanting to get them both out of there, apathetically responded with, “I think we’re out.”

Cas wasn’t taking “no” for an answer. He reached over the counter and grabbed the kid by the shirt, pulling him toward him and using his intimidating voice, “You don’t understand, I need pie!”

“Whoa, there cowboy!” Jessica exclaimed, “It’s okay, I’ll grab a bag of flour and some extra butter and we’ll make one when we get back.” She was heading back to the refrigerated case to grab the butter when she heard the tell-tale flap of wings.

“Put the virgin down, Castiel.” The angel, who looked a lot like the guy from _Revenge of the Nerds_ only a lot older, waited for Cas to acknowledge him. “We need to talk.”

Jessica cautiously approached the counter with the additional items and stood behind Castiel. She didn’t recognize this angel, and she knew from watching over the years that most likely they weren’t going to be very friendly. Cas told her to stay there, that he would be right back, so she hung behind as the angels left the store and headed across the street together. She watched from the store window, trying to read their lips, but they were too far, and she wasn’t very confident in her ability to read lips anyway. After a minute or two of conversation, they started walking further down the street, and before she knew it the both of them disappeared into thin air.

“Great,” Jessica mumbled to herself, “Guess I’m walking back.”

*****

Sam came back into the library, his voice filled with concern, “I can’t find Cas, or Jessica.”

An immediate scowl crossed Dean’s face as he pulled his cell out of his back pocket and dialed Jessica’s number. “Where are you?” he demanded and paused as he listened to her answer, “He what?...Do you need me to come get you?...Alright, we’ll see you in a bit.” Dean hung up the phone.

“So, where are they?” Sam asked anxiously.

“They went back out to the store and he left her there when some sketchy-looking angel showed up! And you said I should go easy on him.”

Sam looked perplexed, “What angel?”

“Damned if I know! Jess didn’t have a clue who it was.”

“Well does she need us to come get her?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed, “No, she’s right around the corner. She walked back, again. She’s right we need to get her a car or something.” His face lit up with an idea, “Like a scooter. She’d look so cute scootin’ around town on a little…”

“Dean!”

“Alright, Alright, so turns out Father Thompson recorded all of his demon cure tests,” Dean explained, getting back to work, “This one here? This was the last one.”

Sam took the audio reel from his brother and loaded it onto the tape player. Both of them sat listening to the proceedings of the final experiment. Sam read additional information from the file they were given earlier that day as they both tried to piece together how the ritual worked, _if_ it worked. 

About halfway through the recording, the door squealed open to the balcony above them and Jessica entered carrying a handful of plastic bags. Sam looked up briefly but then went back to studying the tape. Dean, however, met her at the foot of the stairs, taking the bags from her tired arms. “I was serious earlier when I said I need a car,” she reiterated, rubbing her sore muscles. 

“I know, we’ll figure something out,” Dean conceded, “Are you alright?”

“Other than my arms about to fall off, yeah, I’m fine.” She reassured him.

Dean carried the bags over to the table and plopped them down. Jessica followed him and they both took a seat opposite each other and turned their attention to the audio that was still playing.

“What is this?” Jessica asked.

“It’s another recording of Father Thompson trying to cure a demon,” Dean explained.

“Oh, so more pain and agony,” Jess quipped, “Do you guys ever do anything fun?”

Both Sam and Dean cut a look her way, and so she shut up and listened. The Father administered dose after dose of the blood and the whole time the demon sassed him back when asked how it felt to kill the man’s children, but then finally the demon screamed for the priest to stop. The three of them leaned in to listen more intently. What was happening? The priest recited the weird exorcism from the video they had watched earlier, then the demon screamed again, and when the Father asked about the children again the man who was now free of evil, repented for all the demon’s bad deeds.

Sam, Dean, and Jessica all glanced anxiously at one another.

“Did he just…cure a demon?” Sam asked.

The boys debated whether or not they could test this out before committing to Sam performing the last trial. Dean had an idea. He suggested they stitch Abaddon back up and use her as their unwitting guinea pig. After all she still had the Devil’s Trap bullet lodged in her palate, so she had no chance of smoking out, and if it worked, then they could finally complete these trials and shut the gates of Hell forever.

Jessica had her reservations, “Guys, this is crazy!”

“It’s the best damn plan I think I’ve ever had,” Dean was offended.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t she nearly kill you two the last time you tangled with her?” Jess reminded them, “There are so many, many ways this could go wrong.”

“No, Dean’s right. This is the best way to test the theory. I need to finish these trials,” Sam declared.

Jessica sunk back into her chair defeated. She knew there was no way she was going to talk them both out of it now. “Sure, just take his side why don’t ya?”

“If it doesn’t work, I’ll lob the bitch’s head back off and bury her again,” Dean said.

The boys got packed up and were gung ho about getting on the road and getting the job done. Jessica still didn’t like the idea, she had a feeling that Abaddon was going to be a major player on the show, or well their actual lives. She was worried that this was going to go the wrong way. “Wait!” she exclaimed before they headed up the stairs. They both turned to look at her confused. Without thinking she raced up to Dean and kissed him on the mouth. A look of shock washed over his face when she pulled away and an awkward moment of silence pursued. _Oh my god!_ She thought, _Why did I just do that?_ Of course she knew _why_ but she couldn’t believe she just did! Quickly she turned to Sam and planted one on him too. Sam’s face was less shock and more bewilderment. Jessica tried to cover her mistake. “I love you both. Don’t die, okay?” _How lame are you?_

“Oookay?” Dean said perplexed.

Jessica closed her eyes and shook her head at her stupidity. “I’m sorry, that was a weird thing to do…I just…please come back in one piece?”

“If we do am I gonna get another one of those?” Dean asked, cheekily.

Jessica blushed but couldn’t manage to make words come out. Awkwardly the boys made their way up the stairs in silence. When the door finally clanged shut Jessica palmed her forehead. “Idjit!” she scolded herself, stealing a line from the late great Bobby Singer.

*****

The boys had been gone for two nights. It was supposed to be a quick run, but they had been on radio silence for the past 24 hours. Jessica had paced almost every hall in the bunker with worry. Finally, Dean sent her a text message telling her things went sideways, and they might not be home until early the next morning. Her fingers nimbly tapped away at the keyboard on her messenger asking what that meant, if they were both alright. All she got back was “We’re fine” and then Dean stopped texting. This whole deal where she stayed behind in the bunker while they were out playing the world’s worst game of Risk ever was starting to wear on her. She hated being out of the loop.

Keeping herself busy with chores, reading, falling into a YouTube rabbit hole, even finally baking that apple pie that was supposed to be Castiel’s way of apology to Dean, didn’t seem to be putting her mind at ease. Her mind wandered. What exactly did he mean by “it went sideways”? Were they not able to resurrect Abaddon? Worse yet, did she break free? Did she hurt them? Dean had said they were fine, but the Winchester’s idea of “fine” usually meant at least a few cuts and bruises, maybe even a concussion. It was getting late, close to two in the morning, and try as she might, Jessica couldn’t stay awake any longer. She grabbed a blanket and cozied up in the arm chair in the library and drifted off.

When she woke up the bunker was still dead quiet. She checked the time. It was now 5:35 a.m. Taking a deep breath and stretching out her back, Jessica got up and checked Sam and Dean’s rooms. They were both empty. Apparently, they still hadn’t come home. She checked her phone, but there were no messages waiting. She quickly sent another text to Dean.

ME: Where are you?

She waited for a reply. In under a minute her phone buzzed.

DEAN: On the road. GO 2 BED!

“Oh thank, God!” Jess said aloud.

ME: On your way here?

DEAN: Yes

ME: What time will you be here?

……………

DEAN: Noonish

ME: Alright, I’ll have lunch ready.

DEAN: GO TO BED!

It was clear Dean thought she had been waiting up all night for them. He was half right. But she did get a few hours in! Now that she knew they would be home soon, she took her blanket back to her bedroom and set her alarm for another couple of hours.

The boys didn’t get in until about quarter to one. Jessica was in the kitchen putting a sandwich spread together when she heard the tell-tale squeal of the door up in the crow’s nest. She finished laying out all the condiments and placed everything on a tray and placed it at the center of the table before heading out to the war room to greet them. As she rounded the corner she could hear them talking.

“Look I know it’s bad right now okay, but we stick to the plan, we shut down Hell,” Dean was saying.

“How, exactly?” Sam responded. He sounded frustrated.

Jessica walked into the room but didn’t say a word. Sam looked over at her, causing Dean to glance over his shoulder. He nodded at her and then went right back to giving Sam some kind of pep talk.

“We get a demon…” Dean began, but Sam cut him off.

“You heard Crowley, he’s not going to let one near us!” Sam responded.

Jessica had so many questions as to what was going on, but she didn’t want to interrupt them. She could tell neither of them were in a very good mood at the moment.

“And without a demon,” Sam continued, “all we can do is sit back and watch people we know, people we saved, die! Like Sarah!”

“So, what are you saying?” Dean asked.

“I’m saying maybe this isn’t one we can win. Maybe we should just take the deal.”

Dean got frustrated by his brother seeming to give up. “We’ll figure this out. We will! And we’ll get it done. We’ll kick it in the ass, like we always do. Are you with me?”

Sam looked like he had lost all his spirit, like all of the resolve that he had been tirelessly carrying around with him for months had finally lost its hold on him. He didn’t answer Dean. He took a deep breath and turned away from his brother, walking silently out of the room.

Dean sighed, his head hanging low.

“What happened?” Jessica asked.

Dean turned around to look at her. “Everything went to shit,” he responded, clearly upset.

“Abaddon?” she queried.

“She got away,” he stated, turning away from her again and leaning over the table. “And Crowley’s killing off everyone we’ve ever saved, so there’s that.”

Jessica reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “Who’s Sarah?” she inquired.

Dean turned back around to face her and leaned on the table for support. “She’s someone we saved a long time ago. Sammy had a thing for her. We watched her die right in front of us and the damn hex bag was in the fucking phone the whole damn time!” He pounded his fist on the table.

“Wait,” Jessica began, “not art dealer Sarah? From season one?”

Dean looked at her funny. He hated when she referred to their lives as if it were just some television show, but he knew that in her old world it had been, and he was too beat down to complain about it right now. “Yeah, art dealer Sarah.”

“No! I liked her! No wonder Sam is so defeated!”

Dean pushed himself up and wandered across the room, running his hand through his hair. “She had a husband and a kid too. God dammit, Crowley is gonna pay for this!”

Jessica knew that Sam must have been feeling awful after having witnessed that. Sarah was the first girl he really connected with after his girlfriend Jess died. Now between the havoc that the trials were causing to his body and this new fresh batch of Hell that they were being served, it was no surprise that Sam had all but given up. But they couldn’t give up! They were so close to shutting the gates of Hell down, and she so badly wanted her boys to be able to live normal lives and be happy for once. Even Dean seemed to be thrown by this revelation. Whatever was going on, Jessica was determined to help them fix it.

“I’ll talk to Sam,” she announced, “I made up some lunch if you’re hungry. It’s in the kitchen.” As she turned around to leave Dean to his thoughts, he suddenly stopped her.

“Thank you for everything you do for us, Jess.”

Jessica smiled sweetly, “I like to think that’s why I’m here. I’d do anything for you guys.”

Dean smiled back, “I know.” He stepped closer to her and wrapped her in his arms, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Go check on Sammy for me will ya?”

Her heart melted in her chest. Dean had gotten into the habit of showing affection toward her. Was it his way of saying that the weird goodbye kiss she gave him the other day was okay? Did he reciprocate the feelings she had for him? Afterall, they didn’t seem to be butting heads as much lately. She watched him as he exited the room, and then took off down the hall to find Sam.

When she reached Sam’s room, the door was shut and only silence emanated from behind it. She knocked gently to get his attention. “Sam? Are you in there?” There was no answer, but as she was about to knock a second time, the door opened and Sam towered before her. “Hey, Sam. Dean told me what happened. I’m so sorry.”

He just shook his head and wandered back into his room, leaving the door open for her. 

Jessica took that as an invitation and closed the door behind her, moving to sit next to him on the bed. They sat in silence for a few seconds before he said anything.

“I can’t do this anymore,” was the only think he could manage to say.

Jessica tried to get him talking more. He needed to release all the pain and anger he must have been feeling. “Can’t do what anymore, Sam? Hunt?”

Sam stood up and walked away, chagrin evident on his face and exuded through his posture. “I can’t keep watching people we care about die! Sarah didn’t deserve that!” He turned back to face her. “I can’t help but keep thinking that nothing we do ever makes anything better. No matter what we do someone always ends up hurt or dead because of it. Hell always seems to be one step ahead of us!”

“Sam that’s not true,” Jessica interjected, “You and Dean have saved the world over and over again! I know, I’ve watched you do it! And you guys are this close to putting an end to evil for good. You can’t give up now!”

“I don’t know what else to do! Crowley is going to kill everybody we’ve ever saved if we don’t stand down from these trials. If they all end up dying anyway, then did we really do anything to turn the tides?” Sam brooded.

Jessica crossed to him and took his hand. “Of course you did! You can’t let this thing with Crowley erase all the good deeds you’ve ever done! Besides, you and Dean will figure this out. You’ll stop him before anyone else dies! Want to know how I know?”

Sam rolled his eyes, placatingly, “How?”

“Because you’re a Winchester dammit! You and Dean have both been to Hell and back and I believe in you! You should too!” Jessica softened, “Sam, I know Sarah meant a lot to you, and it hurts me to see you so upset, but you can’t give up. You need to let it make you angry. Use that anger to push through and get the job done. You are so close to stopping Crowley once and for all.”

Sam smirked a little. “You sound like my brother now.”

“Well, he happens to be right,” she retorted.

“Just so you know, I’m rooting for you two,” he teased.

Jessica cocked her head to the side and gave him a look. “I’m going to take your mocking as a sign that I’ve done my job cheering you up.”

He smirked again, amused. “Really though, thank you. It’s nice to have someone rooting for me too.”

Jessica hugged him around his waist, and he held her close to him. She felt like a child next to his tall, lean frame, but she lingered there for a moment giving him the comfort he needed. She had meant what she said to both of them; she would do almost anything for them. Sam needed someone to confide in other than his brother. He grew up without a mother figure, and while Jessica certainly wasn’t old enough to be his mother, she could be that nurturing force in his life. She wanted to take care of them, and she would do that as long as she remained here in their world.


	12. "When the World is Running Down, You Make the Best of What's Still Around"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like our OFC is about to experience her first SPN finale first hand! How do you think she will fair?
> 
> Just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has been reading this fic and bookmarking/leaving kudos! This story has been a labor of love for me for the past two years. I was going to wait until it was finished to upload the whole thing all at once, but I've been excited to share it and I feel like I'm far enough into the story now that I can post chapters and still stay far enough ahead that I can finish it without you all having to wait for months for updates.
> 
> I know the romance is slow going, but I did warn you in the tags. I really wanted to spend time developing the relationships between all the characters before getting to the smutty smut smut. LOL. 
> 
> Don't be shy about leaving comments! Good, bad, indifferent I'll take all your feedback! Hope you are enjoying so far...there is a lot more to come!

Sam, Dean, and Jessica were in the library arguing about what to do about Crowley’s demands. Sam still wanted to give him what he wanted, to stand down, but Dean was adamant that they needed to see these trials through so they could stop Crowley once and for all. Shortly after they had returned home earlier that day, a text had come through on Dean’s cell phone, number 666 on the display. All it said was “Canonsburg, PA”, but a second later a picture came through of a blonde woman. Her neck was torn out at the shoulder, a bloody, gory mess. It was Jamie, the Oktoberfest barmaid that Dean had had a fling with while hunting a shifter. Dean’s anger had him swiping some of their coffee cups off the cabinet, smashing them to pieces on the floor. When he calmed down, he helped Jessica clean up the broken shards, but his anger stayed bubbling just under the surface all afternoon. When another text came through around 6:00 p.m., they all convened in the library to figure out some sort of plan. All they had done thus far was quarrel about what was right and what was wrong.

“It’s only been five hours since the last one! He said every twelve!” Dean exclaimed.

Sam looked at him like he was insane, “Are we seriously quibbling about the timeline, Dean? It’s Crowley, it’s not like he’s all that trustworthy! It’s time to back down!”

“Who is it now?” Jessica asked.

Dean knocked a book off the table, slamming it against the wall. “I don’t know it just said, ‘Sioux Falls?’”

“Jody!” Sam exclaimed.

“Dean maybe Sam’s right, maybe you should just give in to his demands,” Jessica urged.

“No!” Dean yelled, “We don’t surrender to demons! Especially demons like Crowley!”

“I don’t think we have a choice anymore, Dean! We can’t let anyone else die!” Sam pleaded.

Jessica had a thought. What if they could use this situation to their advantage? “Guys…” she began, but they two of them were still going at it, “GUYS!” The boys stopped their contention for moment and turned toward her. “We need a demon for the third trial, right? What if we use Crowley?”

Sam’s eyes lit up with curiosity, but Dean was still too angry to think rationally. He didn’t seem to be following Jessica’s train of thought.

“Make the deal. Crowley is a man who loves his contracts, he’s going to want to have it in writing. When you meet with him, double-cross him!” Jessica offered.

“How exactly are we going to do that?” Dean asked, his voice still tinged with irritation.

“No, she’s right,” Sam agreed, “We have the demon cuffs we could use. If we can get close enough we can capture him. He can be the demon we cure!” 

Dean was still reluctant, but when another text came saying “Time’s ticking…”, he relented. He dialed 666 and waited for the King of Hell to answer before putting the call on speaker phone so they all could hear. Crowley’s unmistakable voice came on the line.

“You have less than one minute before a very dear, attractive, slightly tipsy friend of yours snuffs it.”

Dean slammed his hands down on the table in defeat. “Call it off, Crowley!”

The King of Hell wanted to toy with him. “Because…?”

Dean hesitated for a moment, “Because it’s over you son of a bitch, we want to deal.”

Crowley wasn’t going to take him at his word. He warned them she had 30 seconds left. Dean quickly laid out the terms: they would give up the trials and Crowley would stop killing the people they saved. It wasn’t enough for the King, he wanted more, demanding the Demon Tablet. Sam wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but Dean countered.

“Fine, but then the Angel Tablet comes to us.”

“On what grounds?” Crowley argued.

Dean laid it out for him, “On the grounds that you’re a douchebag, and no douchebag should have that much power! Deal or not?”

There was a pregnant pause while Crowley seemingly mulled it over. “First I need to hear two little words: I surrender.”

The sheer annoyance on Dean’s face made Jessica think that he was going to let his pride get in the way of saving their friend. “Dean just say it for crying out loud!”

“Who was that?” Crowley asked.

Dean just turned and gave her a look that told her to be quiet or there was going to be hell to pay. He turned back to the phone, “No one. We surrender, alright?”

“We, or you?” Crowley taunted.

“Me, dammit! I surrender!” Dean angrily exclaimed.

There was another tense moment of silence on the other end of the line. “Good,” Crowley finally said, “your sheriff friend is safe. I’ll draw up the contracts and be in touch. I can’t wait to meet your new girl.” He hung up the line.

Sam and Jessica both released the breath they had been holding, but Dean was still fuming.

“What the hell, Jess? You couldn’t keep quiet?” he scolded.

Jessica looked at him in disbelief. Was he seriously chiding her for getting them out of hot water? “Well if you hadn’t been so stubborn that I thought you were going to let Jody die, I wouldn’t have had to!”

“I wasn’t going to let her die!”

“Well you could’ve fooled me!” Jessica spewed.

Sam stopped their bickering in its tracks. “Guys! Seriously, we have more pressing issues at the moment.”

But Dean was still unhappy about this new development, “Now she’s on Crowley’s radar, Sam! That’s one more person he can use to hurt us!”

“Not if this plan works,” Sam reminded him.

*****

Sam and Dean had left to go get Kevin and the other half of the Demon Tablet, and Jessica was readying an empty room for when Kevin arrived. Dean thought it was best to keep the prophet safe in the bunker with her while they went to deal with the uncertainty of the third trial. Everything was in motion now, and it was making Jessica feel a little uneasy. This was big! If they could pull this off, then all their lives were going to change. Hell would be shuttered for good, and the Winchester’s would have to find something else to do with their lives. They could finally have the lives they deserved to live. They could find love, settle down, maybe even have kids of their own. The thought of a little, miniature Sam and Dean running around the bunker made Jess smile. A fleeting thought that Dean Jr. could very well be hers too, made her blush a little. Jessica did her best to put those errant thoughts and the feelings they stirred aside. These trials were an uncertainty. No use putting the cart before the horse and fantasizing about a life without monsters yet.

A few hours later, Kevin Tran arrived. He was by himself. The boys had left right from their meetup to get Crowley. Jessica met him in the war room as he reluctantly made his way down the stairs. “Hey, Kevin!” she cheerfully greeted him.

He looked around, bewildered as they all were the first time they laid eyes on the place. “Hi,” he responded.

Jessica showed him to his room, letting him get settled in and then told him that lunch was ready if he was hungry. He thanked her and chowed down, genuinely appreciative of the real food he was being served. When he was on that boat all he ate were hotdogs and take out. It was clear that she had actually cooked this for him from scratch. “Do you guys eat like this all the time?”

“I try to cook for them whenever they’re home. I know they eat mostly junk on the road, especially Dean, so I like for them to get some nutritious, home-cooked meals in them when they can,” Jessica explained.

After they ate, the two of them went to sit in the library and chatted for a bit, getting to know one another better. Jessica already knew some about Kevin, but he was enthralled with her tale of traveling from another dimension. The science-minded brain of his was trying to figure out how it was even possible, although with everything that had happened to him since he had met the Winchesters, it seemed like anything was possible after all. The one think he couldn’t understand was why this girl would want to live here. From what she told him, her world didn’t have demons and angels and prophets. She was living the dream at a university in Florida. Why would she give that up for this? He had his answer an hour later when Castiel and Dean fluttered into the library startling the both of them. The way her eyes lit up when she looked at Dean, Kevin knew exactly why she’d give it all up. She was stupidly in love with Dean Winchester.

“What are you guys doing here?” Jessica asked as she got up from the table, “Where’s Sam?”

“Sammy’s starting the last trial,” Dean explained.

Jessica looked back and forth between Dean and Cas. “You got Crowley?”

Dean nodded his head and smiled a cocky grin. “Of course we got him, kiddo. Your plan worked like a charm.”

She smiled up at him, proud.

“That’s not what we came for,” Cas interrupted their conversation. He pulled out the Angel Tablet from underneath his trench coat and placed it on the table in front of Kevin. “You need to tell us about the Angel Trials.”

“Is this a joke?” Kevin asked, somewhat annoyed.

“No, it’s the Word of God,” Castiel answered.

Kevin looked bewildered, so Dean spoke up in clarification. “It’s a tablet, alright? Translate. It’s what you do.”

“Wait,” Jessica interjected, “Why are we translating the Angel Tablet now? I thought we had all we needed for the last trial?”

Dean looked over at her, a little bewildered himself, “Yeah, well apparently we are trying to pull a double hat trick now.”

“What are you talking about?” she responded, still confused.

“Close ‘em both down,” Dean explained, “Heaven and Hell.”

Jessica looked shocked, “Wait, we can do that?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, “but we need the prophet to translate the Angel Tablet to do it.”

Kevin looked at them, defeated. The last thing he wanted to do was to translate another tablet!

“And we’re kinda on a timeline here,” Dean added, “We need to shut it down so I can get back to Sam and make sure we take care of Hell too.”

Kevin huffed in disbelief, “Okay, it’s the _Angel_ Tablet, which I’ve never laid eyes on in my life! You want a translation in like six hours? It took me six months and a dead mom to translate a _piece_ of the Demon Tablet!?” He clearly wasn’t having any of this, walking over to the bar cart and pouring himself a tumbler of whiskey. “And according to your own words, _this_ morning, this is not what I do, this is what I did! You told me I was out, Dean!”

Dean looked apologetic, but firm, “Yeah, well…”

“And if this is going to be the ‘guys like us are never out’ speech, save it…”

Kevin didn’t get to finish his angry rant, because in a flash, Castiel was in front of him, grabbing a fistful of his sweater and lifting him up off the chair, his feet dangling an inch above the floor as the tumbler fell from Kevin’s hand and crashed to pieces. Dean spoke up to stop him, but Cas was serious in getting the task done, all but threatening Kevin to translate the tablet, or else. 

Jessica watched in shock as this all transpired, and although Dean clearly didn’t approve of the way Castiel handled the matter, it was clear that they needed it to be done.

Cas walked toward Dean, “Let’s go.”

"Wait!” Jessica stopped them just short of teleporting back out of there, “Dean, please be careful!”

He nodded to her and then the two of them were gone with another flap of wings.

Kevin stood there for a moment in defiance.

“I’ll clean up this mess,” Jessica offered, “Get started, I’ll see what I can do to help.”

After a few hours, Jessica had to admit that there was really _nothing_ she could do to help Kevin. The Word looked like gibberish to her, and even when Kevin translated something and wrote his notes down, she could barely figure out his chicken scratch. She had to give it to him, even though she knew he really didn’t want to do this anymore, he put his head down and was frantically trying to do his part.

The hours ticked by, and while Jessica stood by helplessly watching Kevin piece together the phrasing on the Angel Tablet, the phone rang. It was Dean. He asked Jessica to put him on speaker so he could talk to Kevin, asking if he had found anything about the three trials to shut the pearly gates. He and Kevin got into it about how not to motivate him by using sports references, they weren’t helping, when suddenly they heard another voice in the background of the call. A female voice, one that neither Jessica nor Kevin recognized.

Dean went silent on the other end, and Jess and Kevin strained to hear the faded voice coming from the phone. She was saying something about the Nephilim and Cupid’s bow, how they weren’t things that could fix Heaven, but rather break it. Metatron was trying to cast out all the angels. This was bad, this was very bad. Jessica could feel it. And then the woman said the one thing that set all gears turning in Jessica’s head. “If Sam completes those trials, he is going to die.”

“Finale,” Jessica muttered beneath her breath.

“What?” Kevin asked, confused.

“Finale!” she shouted, and then rifled through the pockets of Kevin’s jacket.

He looked at her taken aback, “What are you doing?”

Jessica pulled Kevin’s car keys from his pocket. “I need to borrow your car. Tell Dean I’m on my way to Sam!” Before he could protest she was sprinting up the metal stairs and pulling the heavy steel door shut behind her.

Kevin’s attention was pulled back to the phone when Dean came back on the line. “Hey, right now, talk to me. Is she lying?”

“I don’t know, but Jessica just took off saying something about a finale?”

“A what?” Dean asked, “What do you mean she took off?”

“She told me to tell you she was heading to Sam,” Kevin said frantically.

“Shit!” Dean cussed, “Well, find out if Naomi’s lying.”

The phone went dead on the other end of the line.

*****

Jessica had hightailed it out of Lebanon on US-281, and even though it should have taken at least an hour to get to 34 North, she had taken advantage of the lack of evening traffic and made it there in less than thirty minutes. The GPS was telling her she still had a good four and a half hours to make it to Sioux Falls, and even then she was going to have to find this random, isolated church that Sam and Dean had picked out for the third trial to go down. Sam was probably close to completing his task. She was never going to make it in time! She swerved back into the lane after narrowly running herself off the road while she pressed the contact for Sam’s phone. It rang and rang as she tried to keep her eyes on the road ahead of her. 

This couldn’t be happening! Everything had fallen into place too late. She should have known that if they were going to tackle the third trial that they were in finale territory. Every season ended with a cliffhanger and punch to the gut, usually in the form of one of the Winchester’s dying or being hurt so badly that it left the audience reeling until the summer hiatus was over. This was definitely feeling like one of those moments. If she had only put two and two together earlier, maybe she could have done something to stop it. Now all she could do was focus on getting to Sam. She knew Dean would probably be there by now, certainly having Cas teleport him back, but to what? What was Dean going to discover? Was Sam already dead? 

She dialed Dean’s cell, but like Sam’s it just kept ringing. “Dammit!” She screamed, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat and gripping the steering wheel tight as she slammed her foot down harder on the gas pedal. 

Jessica was flying down the highway at 100 miles per hour when she saw it. The sky began raining fire.

*****

It was well past midnight when Jessica arrived at Sioux Falls General Hospital. Sam had been admitted, and they were running tests, but the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. What they did know is that they weren’t equipped to give him the best treatment possible for his condition. At this point he had slipped into a coma and was unresponsive. They gave Dean a choice to airlift him to a hospital that specialized in treating patients with severe brain and internal injuries in New York State, and he had signed the paperwork just before Jessica walked into the waiting room. As soon they locked eyes Jessica ran to him. She threw her arms around his waist and let him engulf her in his big, brawny arms. 

“Is he okay?” she asked. The look on Dean’s face told her everything she needed to know before he even said anything.

“It’s not looking good,” he responded, “they’re gonna airlift him to another hospital that might be better with this kind of thing.”

Jessica looked around and lowered her voice so no one could hear her. “ _Is_ there a hospital that specializes in ‘this kind of thing’? I mean I’m pretty sure no one has ever attempted to close the gates of Hell before.”

Dean wiped his palm down his face in frustration. “Yeah, I know, but if there’s a chance I’ve got to take it.”

She nodded at him in agreement. “Where’s Cas?”

“God knows,” Dean huffed, “I think it’s safe to say he isn’t in Heaven though.”

It had been hours since the last of the angelic fireballs fell to Earth. Jessica had never seen anything like it before. It was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The angels would no doubt be pissed that they were expelled from their heavenly host, and from her knowledge of angels on the show, a pissed off angel was a dangerous angel. Now there must have been hundreds walking among them.

“Are you flying with Sam?” Jessica asked, thinking that she might have to drive Baby out to New York for Dean. That is, if he let her drive his precious car.

“Hell no! I don’t fly. Besides, I need my Baby with me.”

His answer was unsurprising.

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Jessica stated resolutely.

Dean half-smiled, “I figured as much.” He had no energy to fight her on it. “What are you going to do with Kevin’s car?”

“Just leave it here I guess. We can swing by and pick it up when Sam gets better and we go back home. Or, maybe Kevin can grab a bus to go pick it up or something.”

A nurse approached him then, halting their conversation. “Mr. Dougherty, your brother is ready for transport. Are you sure you don’t want to go with him?”

"No, I’ll drive, thanks.”

“Alright,” the nurse said, “Here is the number to contact when you get to Linwood Memorial to update you on your brother’s status and room number.”

Dean thanked the nurse and then gently put his hand on Jessica’s lower back, ushering her out to the parking lot. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. C’mon, we’ll stop and grab some grub on the way.”

By the time they made it to Randolph, New York it was already late evening. Sam had already been through an MRI and a CT scan and the doctors were awaiting some more test results to come back. So far they hadn’t brought any news other than it was bad, which they already knew. The doctor wouldn’t be sure of the best course of action until the following morning, so Dean and Jessica stayed in Sam’s room all night. Jessica had given up urging Dean to get some sleep, knowing he was going to wait the night through until the doctor arrived in the morning. He was seriously stressed, as could be expected, but it was how quiet he was that concerned her. He barely said a word since they arrived. He just sat by his brother’s side, his forehead creased in permanent distress. Once she realized he was determined to wait up, she grabbed the throw blanket one of the nurses had given them before saying goodnight and curled up uncomfortably in the wooden and vinyl armchair by the window. The only reason she fell asleep was because she was so damn tired; mentally, emotionally, and physically. When she woke up the next morning, Dean was sitting in the same place he was the night before, worry still painting his face.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Dean greeted her as she stretched and craned her stiff neck.

Jess took a deep breath and stood, dropping the blanket down behind her on the chair and walked to the foot of Sam’s hospital bed, her eyes glancing up at the television news station that was reporting on the global meteor shower that was enthralling the rest of the world right now. “That’s what they’re saying it was? A meteor shower? How could that even be possible?” she quizzed, before looking back over at Dean.

He too, glanced up at the images on the screen, but didn’t say a word. Instead, he sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands.

Jessica couldn’t stand seeing Dean like this. It was hard enough watching him go through this kind of thing in earlier seasons when the brothers were just television characters to her. Now that they were real, flesh and blood people that she knew and cared for, it was almost unbearable. She wanted to cry, to just break down and weep for Sam, but she had to stay strong for Dean. He didn’t need to deal with any more misery than he already was dealing with himself. Jessica walked up behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders to comfort him. She wasn’t expecting him to take her wrists and pull her down onto him, draping her arms around his shoulders, their faces now resting cheek to cheek. She squeezed him gently, and she could feel him exhale at her touch.

“Mr. Dougherty?” a voice interrupted their brief intimacy. It was Dr. Timmons with the results of Sam’s tests.

Dean finally got up from his chair and he and Jessica listened as the doctor explained what the CT scans and MRI images were indicating. Sam had severe internal burns and oxygen to his brain was virtually non-existent. The coma was the way that Sam’s body was trying to protect itself from further damage.

Dean finally spoke up, his voice weary with sleep-depravation and stress. “So what’s supposed to happen?”

Dr. Timmons continued, “If your brother continues on this trajectory, machines might keep him alive, but…”

“He’ll be dead,” Dean finished the doctor’s sentence.

The doctor paused for a moment. Giving family bad news like this was always hard. “Technically, yes. I’m afraid so.”

Jessica grabbed Dean’s hand and squeezed, closing her eyes and trying her best not to let the tears fall.

Dean pressed the doc further, “So there’s no recovery? I mean there’s no bounce back, there’s no nothing?”

“I’m afraid that’s in God’s hands now.”

Dean slid his hand away from Jessica, a look of disbelief on his face. “You’re a doctor. You’re a medical professional,” he began, his voice becoming agitated, “you’re trying to tell me that my brother’s life is in God’s hands? What is that supposed to be a, a comfort?”

The doctor put his hand up to attempt to calm Dean down, “Mr. Dougherty…”

“God has nothing to do with this equation, at all!” Dean continued his rant.

“I didn’t mean…” the doc tried again to quell Dean’s anger, unsuccessfully.

“That’s not good enough!” Dean shouted before walking out of the room in a huff.

Both Jessica and doctor watched him go before the doc turned back to apologize to her.

“I’m sorry Ms. Dougherty, I didn’t mean to upset your brother.”

Jessica shook her head, “It’s not your fault. Dean’s very protective of his…I mean of our brother. He practically raised him, so he’s not handling this very well.”

“I understand,” Dr. Timmons conceded, “I’m going to send someone by later to talk with you and your brother about some strategies to help you both cope with this a little better.”

“And you’re certain there’s no possible way that Sam will recover?” Jessica had to ask, although she felt like she already knew the answer.

“All we can do is wait and see,” the doctor offered.

Jess nodded, resigned, “Thank you, Dr. Timmons.”

After walking Dr. Timmons to the door, Jessica looked down the hall for Dean, but he was nowhere to be found. He was probably just blowing off steam. It wasn’t like he would just go off somewhere and leave Sammy behind, so she went back to Sam’s room and sat vigil until Dean got back. Jessica sat in the chair Dean had been occupying all night and bent forward to lay her head down next to Sam. She took a minute, just to breathe, but with no one around to be strong for, she found herself shedding the tears that had been threatening to fall since she met up with Dean in Sioux Falls the night before. Wiping a tear from her face, Jess sniffled and sat back up to look at Sam. The machines incessantly beeping in the background all night suddenly started to grate on her nerves. She wished Sam didn’t have to be here. She just wanted the three of them to go back home and for everything to be alright; back to normal.

Jess grabbed ahold of Sam’s hand and squeezed it tight. “It’s me, Sam. I’m here with Dean, who as you can probably guess is not doing so well right now. I don’t know if the theory is true that people in comas can hear what’s going on around them, but if you can then please come back to us! Your brother needs you… _I_ need you! Besides, who’s gonna break up our bickering if you’re not around? Dean and I will end up killing one another without you,” Jessica tittered. “Seriously, though, I’m gonna need you to fight this, Sam. Whatever you can do, you need to fight as hard as you can to survive, to wake up and be okay. Okay?”

The machines continued to beep in the silent room.

Finally, she couldn’t hold it back any longer and the dam broke, tears rushing from her eyes as a gut-wrenching sob tore through her chest. She buried her face in her hands and she just kept pleading for Sam to wake up.

Jessica flinched when a warm hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up through blurry eyes to see Dean standing there, and she quickly tried to wipe the tears from her face, but it was of no use, they kept coming anyway. “I’m sorry, Dean,” she apologized, “I was trying to be strong for you, but I – I…”

“It’s okay,” Dean pulled her close to him and let her weep with her face buried in his chest. His jacket was becoming wet with her tears. He leaned his cheek down to rest on the top of her head and just held her for a moment, and it wasn’t just for her sake. He needed the comfort too. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright, kiddo. Sam’s gonna make it. We’re gonna make sure he does.” Dean pulled away from her slightly and tilted her chin up to look at him. He tried his best to put a reassuring smile on his face, even though it faltered a bit, and he brushed away a fresh tear that rolled down her cheek.

Jessica tried to smile back up at him. “I know,” she said as her breath hitched, “we will.” She said it not only to support him but to convince herself. They had to find a way.

Dean put his arm around her shoulders and walked her over to the window, where they leaned up against the sill together, supporting one another, and stood there silently but united, watching over Sam. Jessica leaned her head into his side and took a deep cleansing breath, wiping the last of the stray tears from her cheeks while Dean squeezed her tight. They stood there together for a long while, until finally the door opened and a woman in a floral print button down and a cardigan walked in. She didn’t say anything when she entered, but smiled gently at the two of them.

Releasing Jessica from his grasp, Dean pushed himself off the windowsill and took a step toward her. “Hey. I’m just gonna break the ice. Are you an angel?” he asked hopefully.

Jessica looked over at him in confusion and a sudden thrill of fear danced through her. Why would he ask her that? Were they in danger? 

The woman chortled, seemingly just as confused as Jess was. “Sometimes I wish I were. My name is Kim Shorts, and I’m a grief counselor here at the hospital.”

Dean’s face fell a bit, the hope in his eyes falling away. “I, uh, um…sorry, I’m just tired,” he explained, “Well, all due respect but uh, I’m not grieving. Not yet at least. So…” He trailed off, unable to find any more words.

The woman glanced over at Jessica, noticing how red and puffy her eyes were, and pressed her lips tightly into a thin line. “I’m afraid as hard as this might be, this might be a good time to talk,” she continued, but her breath caught for a moment, “about the inevitable.”

Jessica could see Dean’s shoulders tense up and stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his back, a silent reminder not to blow up on this woman the way he did with Dr. Timmons earlier. He seemed to get the message, because she felt him relax and take a breath before responding.

“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice person and that you mean well, but _inevitable?_ That’s a fightin’ word where I come from,” he shook his head with resolve, “There’s always a way.”

The woman shrugged, but was unable to be as positive as Dean was trying to be. She pursed her lips and responded, “…And I’m a prayerful woman who believes in miracles as much as the next, but I also know how to read an EEG, and unless you’re telling me you have a direct line to those angels that you were looking for…?”

“Yeah,” Dean interrupted her, “no, I…I guess I don’t.”

The look of disappointment on his face broke Jessica’s heart all over again.

Then an epiphany struck him. “But I might have something better,” he puffed out a breath with a smile, “I’ve got the King of Hell in my trunk.” Dean walked out of the room again with a purpose, leaving the grief counselor stupefied.

“Uh, eh, i-is that…I’m sorry is that a metaphor?” she stumbled.

Jessica quickly intervened, “He’s just, really, really, distraught right now. And he h-hasn’t had much sleep. Delirious, you know?” She tried to play off his odd comment, even though she happened to know he wasn’t lying or delirious.

The woman looked at her and nodded, as if she understood. “How about you, do you need to talk?”

“You know, I just kinda cried it out with my brother there, so I’m good!” Jessica smiled, but even she could feel how fake it must have looked.

“Well, if you and your brother decide you want to talk,” the counselor handed Jess her card, “you can just call that number and I’ll come right up.”

“Thank you,” Jessica took it and nodded.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” the woman said, before finally leaving the room.

Jessica was once again alone. More waiting. More silence. Well, except for that infernal beeping! What the Hell was taking Dean so long getting Crowley out of the trunk? 

Jessica paced the room for what felt like hours. In reality it was probably only fifteen or twenty minutes, but she was getting impatient. Where was Dean? Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, and stomped toward the door to go looking for him. Instead, she ran into the wall that was his 6’1” frame. 

“Ow!” she exclaimed.

His hands grasped onto her arms and steered her back. “Where were you going?” he asked.

“I was gonna go looking for you! What the Hell took you…” she stopped when she saw the strange man standing behind Dean. “Who’s he?”

“My name’s Ezekiel,” the austere stranger replied, “I’m here to help.”

Jessica eyed Dean, “Where’s Crowley?”

“In the trunk,” Dean responded, “Got something better I hope; got us an angel.”

She wasn’t so sure that was the best idea. Most angels tended to be dicks, and this was Sam they were talking about. When have the angels ever wanted to help him? Jessica grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him out into the hallway, mumbling an “excuse us” to the angelic being. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Dean?” Jess asked in hushed tones.

“Can you think of a better one?” he challenged. “Angels can heal most anything, and this guy says he’s willing to help. It’s a chance I’ve got to take!”

Jessica closed her eyes and sighed. He was right. If the choice was Sam dying or giving this angel a shot, the answer was pretty clear. “Fine, but if it goes sideways?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Dean said resolutely. 

The two of them walked back in, the angel Ezekiel standing still in the place where they left him.

“So, what do you do?” Jessica asked him.

Ezekiel walked over to the bed, his hand placed firmly on Sam’s chest and his face scrunched up in concentration.

“You still able to cure things,” Dean asked, swaying a little with uncertainty, “after the fall?”

“Yes, I should be, but he’s so weak,” Ezekiel replied.

They all stood there in silence for a moment before Dean’s cell phone chirped to life. He glanced at the caller ID, but didn’t recognize the number. “Who is this?” he answered. 

Whoever it was, he recognized the voice instantly, and glanced warily at the new angel in the room. Ezekiel didn’t see Dean’s apprehension, he was still trying to figure out how to fix Sam, but Jessica caught it.

“Hold on,” he said into the phone, then pulled a couple of bills out of his pocket and handed them to Jessica, “Here, why don’t you go get us some coffee?”

“Now?” Jessica asked incredulously. 

Dean bent down to whisper in her ear, “Yes, now. I’ve gotta take this call and I don’t want to leave you in here with him. Just in case.”

Jessica looked over at Ezekiel, he didn’t seem to hear Dean’s warning, and she took the money and mouthed “be careful” before exiting the room.

The hospital cafeteria was one floor down, and there was a long line of people waiting at the cashier, but the coffee here was way better than the sludge from the vending machine. Jessica waited patiently in line before paying for the two cups. She set one down for a moment to shove the change back into her jean’s pocket, and then made her way back to the elevator. The doors opened up onto Sam’s floor when the rumbling started. What was going on? Were they having an earthquake?

Jessica quickly stepped out of the elevator, she certainly didn’t want to be trapped in there, and made her way to the wall across from her to brace herself. The rumbling continued, people were beginning to panic, and the staff was trying to usher patients back into their rooms, trying to keep people calm. Doctors and nurses were looking at each other, trying to figure out what was happening, and then all of a sudden a sharp ringing sound enveloped the hospital floor.

“Fuck!” Jessica exclaimed, dropping the coffee and covering her ears with her hands, trying to make her way back towards Sam’s room, back to Dean. The angels were talking. She tripped a couple of times as the floor was shaking beneath her feet, glass was shattering around her, the fire alarm went off, everything was falling into chaos around her. Finally, she rounded the corner where the nurse’s station was situated. It was then she saw him. Dean was bloodied and being dragged down the hall by the grief counselor and a man she didn’t recognize. They stopped outside of Sam’s room, giving Dean an ultimatum. They wanted to know where Cas was, or they were going to kill Sam.

Angels.

Jessica knew better than to jump into the fray, and Dean would want her to stay safe, so she crouched down behind the nurse’s station and peeked gingerly around the corner to keep an eye on what was happening. Her heart started to race, worried for Dean and Sam, but fear kept her in her place.

The angel inhabiting the man’s vessel, broke a glass case and took out the fire ax, heading back over toward Dean. Jessica watched in horror, thinking he was going to use it, but Dean stayed calm and sassed the angel wearing the grief counselor. That earned him another punch to the face, making Jessica flinch in sympathy pain. It didn’t deter Dean however, and after another snarky comment landed him a kick to the face, Jessica almost blew her cover by calling out to him. She stopped herself just in time. 

Dean was lying on his back on the floor, rolling around in agony. 

Jessica watched as the male began swinging the ax at Sam’s door, trying to get in through whatever warding Dean had mentioned, while the woman continued to pound on his face. She couldn’t watch this any longer. There had to be something she could do! That’s when she saw the angel blade lying on the ground a few feet behind the angels. It must have fallen out of Dean’s jacket in the fray.

Swiftly and quietly, Jessica stayed low and made her way over to it, grasping it in her hand and stood. With quick feet, she closed the gap between her and the man and forced the blade between his shoulder blades with all the might she could muster. He screamed and his grace lit up the area around him as he fell to the floor and died. Unfortunately Jessica’s victory was short-lived, as the woman, now alerted to her presence, turned her wraith toward her. She grabbed Jessica by the throat and yanked her off her feet. Jess kicked and struggled in the woman’s grasp, trying to pry her hand away from her neck, but it was no use. She couldn’t pull in enough air, she was going to die!

“Hey!” Dean shouted, drawing the woman’s attention, although not enough for her to loosen her grip. “If Heaven is locked, then where do you go when I do this?” He turned, revealing an angel banishing sigil he had drawn from his own blood, and slapped his hand down upon it blasting the angel away. 

Jessica fell to the ground gasping for air and holding onto her now bruised throat. 

With a deep breath, Dean rolled himself up off the floor and over to her. “Are you alright?” he asked, putting a hand underneath her arm and hauling her up to her feet.

“Now that there’s air in my lungs,” she croaked out as she pulled in oxygen through short gasps.

“C’mon, we’ve got to get Sam out of here,” Dean resolved, pulling Jessica along by the elbow and back into the room.

When they entered, Ezekiel was sitting in the chair next to Sam’s bed and the EKG Sam was hooked up to was sounding a rapid alarm. “What the Hell’s happening?” Dean asked. 

Ezekiel looked weakly up at the monitor, “This, just started, and the warding,” Dean sprang to action, crossing out the angel warding he put up as the angel continued, “I’m afraid I’m weaker than I thought. I am sorry, Dean.”

“No. No, no,” Dean crossed to him, wide-eyed, “we had a deal, okay? I fight, you save!”

Ezekiel looked worse for wear. Jessica wasn’t sure he could swat a fly let alone save Sam, and they seemed to be running out of time. She looked back and forth between the three men in the room as the panic started to set deep into her bones.

“I would that I could,” Ezekiel explained, “I’m just afraid it’s too late.” He sat, clutching his stomach. How could the angel warding still be making him that weak? Dean had already crossed out most of them.

“You kidding me? Are you saying there’s no way to save my brother’s life?”

Ezekiel looked down at the floor. “No good ways I’m afraid.”

“Well, what are the bad ones?” Dean persisted.

Jessica grabbed ahold of Dean’s arm to get his attention. “Dean, don’t do something stupid here.”

He pulled away from her and continued, “We’re out of options here man, good or bad let me hear them!”

Jessica tried again to stop him, but he grabbed hold of her arms and walked her backwards towards the door. “Go get the car,” he demanded, handing her the keys to the Impala, “Bring her around the far side of the building and wait for us.”

“But, Dean…” she began to protest.

“Now!” he yelled, and Jessica took the keys and headed out the door. Dean slammed it shut behind her.

Jessica hesitated for a moment, she could hear their murmured voices through the door, but not enough to make out what they were saying. She had a bad feeling about it, but she did what she was told and made her way to the stairwell to head down to the parking garage levels. When she reached the car, she slid into the driver’s seat, but her feet couldn’t even touch the pedals with the seat adjusted for Dean. Jess felt under the seat for the lever to move the bench seat forward. Even with it pulled all the way up she could still just barely put her toes on the pedal. “Boy, they didn’t make this car for short people did they?” she griped as she shifted her butt forward on the leather seat and sat uncomfortably upright to get herself closer. The pressure was weighing heavily on her now. If she messed up Dean’s Baby, he’d be pissed! With a deep breath, Jess turned the key in the ignition and put the car in reverse to back out of the space. Compared to her the car was huge, and it took a moment for her to really get the rhythm of maneuvering it. Careful around the narrow corners, she slowly made her way down the ramps to the exit. She had to search for a moment to find where Dean had stashed the magnetic card that allowed passage through the exit gate, but she found it tucked under the driver’s side visor, and slid it into the electronic slot. When the gate opened, she was afraid for a hot second that she was too close to the pole at the exit, but she cleared it without incident and turned right onto the street to drive around the building to the main plaza entrance. 

It took her two times around the building to finally find a space big enough for her to feel comfortable pulling into. She didn’t dare try to parallel park, instead waiting for an end space to open up where she could pull straight in. She sat there waiting for a long while before she finally saw Dean approaching. Jess opened the door and climbed out to meet him. Sam was slumped over unconscious in a wheelchair that Dean pushed to the edge of the curb.

“Dean, what happened? Is he…”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Dean announced, “Help me get him in the car.”

Jessica looked at him suspiciously, “Where’s Ezekiel? I thought he said he was too weak to help him.”

“Yeah, well, he did what he could,” Dean avoided her eyes as he spoke, “he’s not all the way healed, but he’ll be alright. He’s just got to sleep for a while.”

“But…”Jess started to protest again.

“Look, just help me get him in the car will you?”

Jessica pressed her lips into a thin line, but gave up the argument for the moment. She walked around to the driver’s side to readjust the seat so that the two behemoth Winchesters could fit without being squished, and then walked back around to help Dean shift his brother from the wheelchair to the car. Dean did all the heavy lifting. All she could really do was shove Sam’s gangly legs into the car before shutting the door. When they were finished, Dean opened the back door to let her in and then took to the wheel.

Before they pulled off, Jessica asked where Ezekiel was. Dean told her that he stayed behind to make sure there were no more angels to get in their way, and then focused his attention solely on the road ahead of him. On the long drive back to the bunker, they stopped in Sioux Falls to pick up Kevin’s car, and when Dean was sure that Jessica got it started up, he took off ahead of her on the darkened highway with Sam still unconscious in the seat next to him.


	13. "Mr. Crowley"

When they made it back to the bunker, Sam was back on his feet again. It was almost as if he was back to his old self, and if it weren’t for Dean acting dodgy about it, Jessica would have just chalked it up to one of those miracles that _Supernatural_ seemed to be so good at delivering. But she also knew those miracles were almost always too good to be true, so she pulled Dean aside the next morning intent on making him talk. Not that it got her anywhere. 

“Look, whatever Ezekiel did, it worked,” Dean offered, “I’m not going to look that gift horse in the mouth.”

“Dean,” Jessica prodded, “Ezekiel said he was too weak to heal him, so how the Hell is Sam perfectly back to normal?”

“I don’t know! After I got rid of the sigils he got better I guess,” Dean deflected.

Jessica sighed, clearly not buying his story. Something was off, but for the moment they had other matters to deal with, and Dean was right about one thing: Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Sam seemed to be doing great, and wasn’t that what they both wanted? Besides, they currently had another crisis to deal with. Sam and Dean had to find something to do with Crowley, who had spent another night in the trunk of the Impala. After having made sure he was blind, deaf, and dumb, they escorted him to the dungeon and strapped him in for the long haul. Kevin was not having any of it. Even after the boys explained to him the need to keep the King of Hell alive and how it would benefit them, the prophet continued to make his disdain for the demon evident, which was why Jessica found herself stuck with babysitting duty when Sam found some heavy demon omens in San Diego.

Once again, she found herself bored stiff and stuck in the bunker. Kevin had his head stuck in the Angel Tablet and was hard at work trying to glean any more information he could about getting the angels back behind the pearly gates. Even still she felt obligated to keep a constant watch on him, if not just because Dean asked her to, but because he was still acting a little shifty whenever Crowley’s name came up in conversation. To be clear, it was Kevin who kept brining him up. Jessica made her rounds around the empty halls, cleaning, doing a few loads of laundry, and occupying her spare time cooking for Kevin and herself, but she maintained a vigilant eye on her new roommate. The only time she allowed herself to relax was when he finally pried his smelly self away from his 48 hour translating binge to finally take a shower. 

Jessica stood in the library, looking at the tablet and studying Kevin’s notes, none of which made a lick of sense to her. She sighed heavily and the half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the bar cart caught her eye. A drink. She could definitely use one of those. The crystal clinked as she pulled the stopper out of the top before tipping the dark, caramel brown liquid into a rocks glass. She passed the glass under her nose, wrinkling her nostrils at the pungent smell, but then knocked it back in a quick all-encompassing swill. “Ack!” she coughed, like a cat with a hairball. “That was disgusting,” she announced to no one in particular, “I don’t know how they can drink that stuff!” So, she had tried it, but she was definitely more of a strawberry daiquiri kind of girl. Dean could never know. He would definitely make fun of her.

A phone rang in the shoebox of burners that the boys had left on the table, drawing her attention away from the whiskey. Jessica placed the empty glass down next to the decanter and sifted through the box, picking up the cell phone and clicking the little green icon before saying, “Hello?” A woman’s voice greeted her on the other end.

“This is Dean’s number, but you’re not a Winchester, who are you?”

Jessica was cautious, “Who’s asking?”

There was a brief pause before the woman spoke again. “Well, whoever you are, I need you to get a message to those boys for me. I have something they might want.”

Jessica listened in horror as she realized who it was she was talking to: Abaddon. She had two hunters strung up somewhere and wanted Sam and Dean to meet her there or she was – surprise, surprise – going to kill them. Jessica took down the coordinates she gave her and then hung up quickly. The last thing she wanted was to be on Abaddon’s radar! Spewing a quick expletive, she grabbed her own phone and dialed Dean. 

It was Sam that answered.

Jessica quickly relayed the information given to her, a panic setting in that it was Abaddon she had just spoken with, but Sam cut her short to put her on speaker phone so Dean could hear too. “Slow down,” Sam instructed, “now what’s going on?” 

“Abaddon just called on one of Dean’s burner phones, she’s holding two hunters hostage and she wants you two to meet her or she’ll kill them. I thought she was dead, what the Hell guys?”

“Yeah we thought so too,” Dean responded, “Where is she?”

Jessica gave them the coordinates. “Guys this is a trap you know that right?”

Dean sighed, “Of course it is. Listen, Jess, you and Kevin stop what you’re doing and look up any information you can find on Knights of Hell. Look for anything that can kill her.”

“Okay,” Jessica responded, “but guys…please be careful? Apparently she’s not that easy to kill!”

“We will,” Sam assured her, “just find out what you can and get back to us, alright?”

New mission: Find out what will kill a Knight of Hell. At least it was something to do.

When Kevin returned from his shower, smelling much, much better by the way, Jessica filled him in on the situation and they abandoned one project for the other. There didn’t seem to be many books in the library that might mention the Knights of Hell, but after looking through that handy database she and the boys put together months ago, it seemed there might be some files in the storage room. The problem was that was also where the dungeon was, and she was sure Dean wouldn’t be too pleased with her being in Crowley’s presence. Sending Kevin in, however, didn’t seem like such a good idea either.

“I’ll be fine,” Kevin assured her, “I won’t even talk to him. I’ll just go in and find the files and leave.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes in distrust, “Promise me, Kevin, not a word!”

“I promise on my dead mom’s grave, wherever that is,” he responded, a little too maudlin for her liking. Also, it didn’t seem like he should be thinking about what Crowley did to his mother before walking in there.

She looked at him again, trying to size up the situation, before finally giving in. “Fine, go. But make it quick.”

It wasn’t quick. 

The minutes were ticking by, and Jessica was sure that a smart kid like Kevin wouldn’t need this much time to find a handful of files that she knew were well-labeled. She did most of the labeling herself after all, and Sam did the rest. Since both of them could be a little anal-retentive about things like that, there was no way Kevin couldn’t find them. She took off down the hall toward the storage room. When she turned the corner into the threshold she saw Kevin standing there in front of a bloodied Crowley. It wasn’t old, dried blood either it was fresh, which meant that her hunch was right and Kevin _was_ taking too long. 

“Get away from him, Kevin!”

Both Kevin and Crowley turned their attention to her. 

“Well, well, well, who is this?” Crowley sing-songed.

Jessica hesitated a moment but then stepped closer to examine the damage Kevin had done. “Jesus, Kev! What did you do?”

“Oh, young Kevin and I were just having a little fun, weren’t we Kev?” Crowley antagonized.

She ignored the King of Hell. “I told you to get in and get out. You promised! What the Hell am I supposed to say to Sam and Dean when they get back?”

Kevin glanced at Crowley one last time before handing over the files he retrieved, and walked out of the room without another word.

Jessica stood there dumbfounded for a moment before turning her attention to Crowley again. She wasn’t sure what to say, or even if she should say anything. She knew what Dean would say about her even being in there with him, but she saw Crowley a bit differently than the Winchesters did. She got to see him when Sam and Dean weren’t around, on the show at least. He didn’t seem like he was _always_ a bad guy. Plus, she knew Sam had been doing the blood purification ritual on him just a few days before, so maybe some of the effects had lingered. At any rate, he was chained with the demon cuffs, he couldn’t hurt her.

“I’ll go get some stuff to clean you up a bit,” she said reluctantly, turning to go.

“Don’t do me any favors, love,” Crowley stated, “except one…who are you exactly?”

She turned back to look at him and paused before answering, “My name’s Jessica. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Is it?” Crowley asked.

“I’ll be right back,” Jessica announced, turning to go but then stopping again, “You like scotch right? I can bring you a glass if you’d like.

Crowley cocked his head to the side, suspicious of her kindness. “Don’t bother. I know the swill those Winchesters drink. Not good for the soul.”

Jessica chuckled, “You don’t have a soul, Crowley, but I agree with you on the booze. Nasty stuff.” She turned around to leave again and headed for the infirmary to get some antiseptic solution and some cotton swabs. His wounds would likely heal on their own, he was a demon, but she could clean him up at least. Crowley was a prisoner-of-war, they should at least take care of him while he was being held there.

After she gathered the supplies, she stopped back into the library to grab a bottle of Dewar’s just in case the King changed his mind about the scotch, and headed back into the dungeon to tend to Crowley’s wounds.

“You weren’t kidding about cleaning me up?” He asked, a mix of surprise and curiosity on his face.

Jessica set the supplies down on the nearby table, opening the bottle of antiseptic and dosing a large cotton ball with it. “You may be chained up in here, but there’s no need to be barbaric.” She gently took Crowley’s hand into hers and wiped up the blood around the open wounds, stopping to get a clean cotton ball before running the solution over the wound itself. Crowley flinched a bit and sucked air in through his teeth when the antiseptic hit the open cuts, although he tried his best to hide it. Jessica smiled, “C’mon, Crowley, don’t tell me you can’t take a little pain.”

“On the contrary,” he replied, “I encourage it.”

Jessica looked up at him, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Depends, can I convince you to let me go?”

She finished cleaning him up without another word, and then went to grab the Dewar’s off the table. “No,” Jessica finally responded, “I can’t let you go, Crowley, but I will leave this bottle of ‘swill’ here with you, just in case.”

“Danka,” Crowley answered, “I don’t know why you are here, or why you have thrown in your lot with Rocky and Bullwinkle, but I’m going to return your kindness. Run. Run far, far away from the brothers Winchester. Take Kevin with you. I told him and I’ll tell you, they will use you up and spit you out and you’ll likely end up dead or worse if you don’t.”

Jessica couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Thanks for your concern, but I think I’ll take my chances.”

“Your funeral, love.”

She left him there for the night, and headed back into the library to find Kevin. He wasn’t there. Instead, he holed himself up in his bedroom the rest of the evening leaving Jessica to research the Knights of Hell on her own. 

There wasn’t much to go on in the files that Kevin had found, nor was there much in the lore books in the library, but Jessica kept reading well into the early morning hours, not wanting to let the boys down. Next thing she knew, she was blinking her eyes open in the dim light of the library. Checking the clock, it was already 8:00 A.M. She must have fallen asleep reading one of the books. Slowly, she sat upright, twisting and craning her neck to stretch out the kinks from her not so comfortable sleeping position, and with a full-bodied yawn took off down the hall to the Men of Letters shower room to get herself ready for the day. 

When she was all clean and dressed, she set about making breakfast for Kevin and herself, and she made a little extra for Crowley too. She wasn’t even sure if he ate, she knew that angels didn’t, but did demons? The King of Hell liked his spirits, so she figured she’d at least offer the food too. After quickly eating her own, she made up a plate for Kevin and one for the prisoner, leaving the former on the table covered with some aluminum foil to keep it warm before heading toward the dungeon to deliver the other. Jessica knocked on Kevin’s door on the way to let him know his breakfast was waiting for him.

The lights were still on in room 7B when she entered, but it was filled with silence. “Crowley?” Jessica announced more than questioned as she unlatched the inner door that doubled as shelving, “Everything okay in here?” She pulled the shelf open and slid it aside to reveal that the King was indeed still where they had left him, but looking much better than she had found him yesterday.

“Pumpkin,” he greeted her cheerily, “to what do I owe the honor this morning? That is if it is morning. I’m just assuming since I haven’t seen or heard from any of my captors for hours.”

Jessica smiled at him. “Yes, it’s morning, and I don’t know if you’re hungry or even if you eat, but I brought you some breakfast just in case.” She placed the plate down on the small table in the corner and then dragged it over in front of Crowley so he could eat. At first it didn’t look like he was going to, but then he picked up the fork and shoveled some scrambled eggs into his mouth appreciatively.

“I don’t normally eat,” he said between a mouthful, “but since Moose started that last trial on me, I have been feeling a bit peckish.”

Jessica though about it and responded, “Do you think that’s because you were almost human again? That you were almost cured?”

Crowley stopped eating and then pushed the plate away. “One can’t be cured of their true nature, Love.”

“You know what, Crowley?” Jessica went on, “I don’t think you’re as bad as you let on. I think underneath all the bluster, you might actually be a decent person if you let yourself.” 

“I’m not a person, I’m a demon.” His eyes flashed red for a moment. “You’d do well not to forget it.”

With a deep breath, Jessica let that thought sink in. Crowley had done some awful things, to the boys, to Bobby, to probably countless others. He killed Sarah, and Jamie, and went gunning for Jody too. Yes, he was a demon, but somehow she still saw a spark in him that made him seem like he was redeemable somehow. “You know, Sam and Dean would be pissed if they knew I was in here with you, cleaning your wounds, giving you booze and food.”

“So, why are you?” He asked.

Jessica shrugged, “Maybe I think you’ll show some kindness if you’re given kindness in return.”

“That kind of thinking will be the death of you.”

She turned around and started walking out the door. “I guess we’ll just have to see.”

*****

With a bucket of extra crispy chicken and a bottle of prune juice in his hands, the metallic clink of Dean’s heavy footfalls filled the silent War Room as he and Sam made their way down the stairs from the Crow’s Nest. After having narrowly escaping Abaddon and her demon cronies, they had spent another night on the road before making their way back home. Dean was craving some fried bird and figured it would be a nice gesture to bring Kevin some juice that could unstop him, since he was complaining about being backed up before they left; he also though it would be funny because he has the humor of a two year old. When he stepped off the bottom tread he broke the eerie silence. “Kevin?” he shouted, looking around the room.

“Kevin?” Sam echoed.

Dean stopped and surveyed the library through the threshold. No one in sight. “Jess?” he called. He waited and then looked over at his brother, who had the same look of panic on his face. 

Crowley!

Dean placed the food and juice down on the tea cart next to the door and took off down the hall to room 7B with Sam close behind him.

When they got there and turned on the light they noticed that the shelf, which also served as the door to the dungeon, was open, but the panic subsided when they saw that the King of Hell was still trussed up in the chair where they had left him. The only thing that was different was that he had some new wounds to heal since they last saw him.

“Who worked you over?” Dean asked.

He and Sam stood there dumbfounded while they waited for an answer.

“Martin Haywood and Brandon Favors,” Crowley responded matter-of-factly.

Sam’s confusion painted his face, “They did this to you?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, “No, they’re demons. You asked for names, I’m giving you names. They’re underperformers. Spike them, you’re doing me a favor.”

Dean chuffed, “Wow! You break easy.”

“Please,” Crowley continued haughtily, “your little plan to have me stew in my own, delicious juices? Pathetic. You want intel, I want things too.”

Dean cocked his head back in defiance, but didn’t say anything.

Without being challenged, Crowley went on, “Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement. Quid pro quo, gentlemen.”

“So these are what then? Freebies?” Sam snarked.

“Not at all! You can consider them fair trade for the enjoyment that Kevin gave me.”

“What the Hell’s that supposed to mean?” Dean spat.

Crowley smiled slightly, “He’s my new favorite toy; wind him up, watch him go!”

Dean pursed his lips in frustration. He turned to leave with directions for Sam. “Check the names. I’ll go find the kid.”

Sam gave Crowley one final look and then began to follow his brother out the door, but Crowley stopped them dead in their tracks.

“Oh by the way,” he taunted, “I like your new gal Friday. Quite the saint that one. Hope she doesn’t get herself killed hangin’ around with you lot.”

Dean wheeled around, almost knocked his brother over stomping back into the room, and leaned down towards Crowley’s face. “You leave her alone, Crowley, or so help me God…”

“Touchy subject I see,” the King continued to antagonize, “might she be the chink in that overly butch armor of yours?”

Dean’s fist collided with Crowley’s nose, stunning him momentarily and drawing fresh blood from his nostrils. With an extra stern look, he turned again to leave.

Sam smirked in Crowley’s direction and then turned off the lights before shutting the door behind them.

Change of plans: the eldest Winchester was making a pit stop before hunting down Kevin. It was Jessica’s room he ended up in.

“Oh, hey! You’re home?” she smiled at him as she tucked the clean laundry she had just folded away in her dresser drawers.

“We told you to stay away from Crowley!” Dean let his anger bubble to the surface.

Jessica sighed, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Jess,” Dean rebuked, “He’s dangerous!"

She avoided eye contact and went about folding the last of the tee shirts in the basket on her bed. “He’s tied up,” she reasoned, “demon cuffs and all, warding in place, he’s harmless right now.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Kevin!” Dean responded, “I’m sure whatever prompted him to go full on Jackie Chan on that Asshat in there wasn’t harmless.”

“Kevin has an ax to grind with him. I don’t think it took much prompting for him to get his licks in.”

Dean’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “Are you seriously defending him right now? He’s a demon, Jessica, not to mention a douche bag!”

She huffed back at him. She couldn’t tell you why, it’s not like she didn’t know that Dean was right. Crowley _was_ a demon, the King of Hell, who had killed numerous people in his long un-lifetime. And it wasn’t like she didn’t expect this reaction from Dean. She knew when he found out she had talked with Crowley that he’d be pissed, but she was getting tired of Dean’s tirades. “Look, I said I was sorry, okay? I won’t go in there again without permission, your highness.”

Dean grabbed her by the shoulders and made her face him. “I’m trying to keep you safe. Why are you going out of your way to make that impossible?”

Why was she doing that? Even she had to admit that since she found herself in their world she seemed to make stupid and reckless decisions that put her in jeopardy. Going after Zeus, toying with magick she didn’t understand, challenging Dean’s orders around every turn; it was like she was purposely trying to get under his skin. Maybe it wasn’t about getting him to be angry with her. Maybe, it was just her way of getting his attention. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I really am. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

The room filled with awkward silence for a moment before Dean cleared his throat and spoke. “Look, just promise me you’ll stay out of there? In case you haven’t noticed we have a shit ton on our plates right now, with the angels and the demons, and Sam…” he trailed off.

“What’s wrong with Sam? Did he get hurt on the hunt?”

Dean realized he misspoke. “No, no, he’s fine. It’s just those trials did a number on him and I’m not sure he’s fully back to normal yet.”

Jessica’s face was painted with suspicion. “He seems like he’s totally back to normal. Is something going on I don’t know about?”

“No,” Dean said, but turned his back towards her. He wasn’t sure he could hide the lie from her at that moment. “Nothing’s going on.”

She grabbed him by the elbow and forced him to turn back to her. “What aren’t you telling me?” Jess prodded.

The door burst open and Sam, alarm set deep in his hazel eyes, interrupted just in time. “Guys, I can’t find Kevin anywhere. He’s gone!”

*****

Dean wandered into the War Room, his Men of Letters issued bathrobe hanging open and loose around his black tee shirt and boxer briefs, and checked the coffee pot. It was piping hot, so he must not have been the first one up this morning. After pouring himself a cupful, he took a sip, careful not to burn his tongue on the hot liquid and looked around the empty room. “Jess?” he called, figuring she was the one who made the pot of caffeine for them. There was no answer. He poked his head out into the corridor and called again, thinking she’d be in the kitchen, but again no answer. Huh, that was strange. She’s usually the first one up, making breakfast for everyone, but there wasn’t even a hint of the heavenly aroma that always accompanies her cooking.

He had been up half the night trying to locate Kevin, who seemingly packed his bag and headed off without telling any of them where he was going. Whatever Crowley had said or done to him while they were gone had clearly had him spun. The kid wasn’t answering any of their phone calls, but it was important that they find him and bring him back. There were a hell of a lot more angels roaming the Earth now, confused, angry, and any one of them would love to get their hands on a prophet. Not to mention all the demons that would gladly make a play for him as well. He wasn’t safe alone out there.

He, Sam, and Jess had spent most of the afternoon and all evening trying to pin him down, but they didn’t have any luck. Dean was the last one to go to bed, and he would have though he was the first one up if it hadn’t been for the coffee that had been waiting for him. Maybe Sam made it?

“Sam,” he called into the library, “you here?”

Just as he finished his sentence the door in the Crow’s Nest above him squealed open and his brother entered carrying a white plastic takeout bag.

“Hey! Morning,” Sam greeted him and deftly made his way down the stairs skipping a few here and there in his long stride.

Dean looked at his watch, confused. It was 6:00 A.M. “You’ve been outside already?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered with a smile, “Yeah! Woke up, went for a run, beautiful sunrise. Anyways, cleaned up, went and got breakfast, grabbed you bacon and eggs extra grease, not even gonna argue.” He pulled the Styrofoam container out of the bag and plopped it down on the table in front of his brother, before pulling a second one out and placing it in front of the next seat over.

“Perfect,” Dean responded gratefully before sitting down to tuck in. “But why the breakfast run? Jessica usually makes us breakfast in the morning.”

Sam took off his jacket and sat down next to him at the table. “Figured I’d give her a break today. She’s always taking care of us, it might be nice every once in a while to take care of her too.”

An errant thought crossed Dean’s mind, causing his lips to curl up on one side, but he cleared his throat and shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth to cover up the indiscretion. “Wait, you went running?” he asked, talking with his mouth full.

Sam looked at him funny, “What? Why do you look so worried?”

“Let’s see,” Dean began, recapping all the dangers that were out there ready to befall Team Free Will. “Then there’s you,” he continued.

“Me?” Sam chuffed, “I feel great.”

Dean hesitated a moment to figure out how to address the situation without giving anything up. “I’m – I’m sure you do, but Sam, you went through the trials. You know that put a big strain on you. I just think it’s better if you took it easy, ya know, and didn’t act like you were…”

Sam’s eyes flashed bright blue and he finished Dean’s sentence for him, although not with the words he was going to use. “Possessed by an angel?” And suddenly Sam was gone, replaced by the angel who was occupying his meatsuit. “He does feel better,” Zeke assured Dean, “a work in progress of course, but I am slowly healing him.”

“That’s great, um – but – see…” Dean was caught off-guard for a second.

The angel continued, “I have news. I picked up chatter among the angels. Not all are wandering around in confusion.”

“Yeah,” Dean conceded with concern, “Some of them are after Cas.”

Ezekiel went on to explain that a faction of angels were rounding up human vessels to contain them, and that they were the ones looking for Castiel. He was trying to be helpful.

Dean thanked him for the intel, asking him not so subtly to let his brother take back the wheel, and in a blink of an eye, Sam was himself again, talking about how Cas was human now, continuing the line of conversation that was interrupted when Ezekiel took over. “I’m gonna get whiplash,” Dean murmured under his breath.

“What?” Sam shook his head at his brother’s strange comment.

Dean took another sip of coffee and cleared his throat, “Nothing. Um, alright so I was thinking if the angels are organizing, then that makes them a lot more dangerous than we thought.”

Sam shook his head again, not following Dean’s train of thought. “Why do you think they’re organizing?” Was there some connection he wasn’t getting there?

Dean searched for an answer to a comment that he knew his brother would find bizarre. After all, it wasn’t Sam he was having the conversation with about the angels just a moment ago. How could he justify what he was saying now? “It makes sense,” was what came out, accompanied by the most unconvincing of grins. “My point is, the more of them that are after Cas, the worse it is, so we gotta find him!”

“Who’s after Cas?” Jessica announced her entrance with the question. 

The brothers turned to look as she made her way over to the table and sat down across from Dean. Sam slid the second takeout container her way.

“What’s this?” she asked opening the lid to peer inside.

“I got you breakfast for a change this morning,” Sam smiled, “Eggs Benedict. Your favorite diner breakfast if I remember correctly.”

Jessica smiled. “Well, Sam Winchester, I do declare you are a gentleman and a scholar my friend,” she sing-songed in her best faux southern accent. She ripped open the packaging containing the plastic fork and knife and thanked him before cutting off a piece and savoring her first bite. “Mmmm, this totally hits the spot this morning.” She smiled at Sam and then turned her attention to Dean, who was staring at her funny. “What?” she asked.

“Do you just, wake up like that or something?” Dean blurted in awe before he could catch himself.

“Like what?” Jessica nervously drew out the words and absentmindedly twisted a lock of her hair.

Dean’s cheeks flushed pink for a moment before he composed himself, “I just mean, it’s early, and you look pretty put together already.”

Sam looked back and forth between the two with a smirk, enjoying the early morning flirting match. They ought to just get on with it already. It was starting to get nauseating.

“That’s cause I showered, and got ready before I came out here,” she responded, “so, I’ll take the compliment, but to answer your question, no, I don’t just wake up like this.”

The truth was that she made a point of getting up early every morning to get herself put together before she ran into either one of them, but especially Dean. She didn’t want him to see her the way she looked when she first woke up. It might scare him away, and that was the last thing she wanted. She definitely made sure she was prettied up before saying good morning each day.

The subject was dropped abruptly after a few lingering moments of awkwardness and they continued to eat their breakfast. The boys filled Jessica in on their worries about Cas, and when they finished their meals and cleaned up, the brothers got ready to hit the road again. Before they left, Dean asked Jessica to continue to try and track Kevin down, but gave strict orders not to tangle with Crowley again. She agreed, but after a few hours of making phone calls and getting no leads on Kevin’s whereabouts, she decided that Crowley might be her best shot at finding Kevin. She would just have to make him swear that he wouldn’t mention her visit to Dean when the boys got back. Better yet, maybe she would call Dean and logically explain to him why it would be advantageous to speak with Crowley in order to suss out Kevin’s whereabouts. Scratch that! Maybe Sam would be a better candidate for that phone call. 

Jessica dialed the number.

It rang four times before Sam’s voice greeted her.

“Hey, Sam!” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster. “You guys have any luck finding Cas yet?”

“Not so much,” Sam replied, “but we definitely stumbled onto another case.”

Jess kept her voice light, “Typical day for the Winchesters, huh?” She didn’t let him answer. It was a rhetorical question anyway. “So, I haven’t been able to track Kevin down yet, but I had a thought about who might be able to point me in the right direction…”

The sound on the other end of the line became more distant.

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker so Dean can hear.”

_Great! That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d do!_ Her inner monologue was dripping with sarcasm.

“Whatcha got, kiddo?” Dean’s gruff baritone came over the line.

With a deep breath, Jess tentatively made her case. “Okay, hear me out. We can assume that Kevin packed up and left because of his run-in with Crowley, and Crowley told you that Kevin was his favorite new toy, right?”

“Right,” Dean grumbled, “so?”

“So, maybe if we know what Crowley said to him to make him leave, it would give us a better lead on where he went?”

“No!”

“But, Dean, I really think…” she hedged.

Dean cut her off. “We had this discussion before I left! What do you not get about Crowley being evil?”

“Sam, help me out here,” she pleaded. Jessica listened as Sam came to her defense.

“She has a point, Dean. Crowley might be our best lead.

The boys continued to argue as she listened on the other end of the line.

“Oh and what, you’re just willing to throw her to the hounds?” Dean challenged.

“No, of course not,” Sam responded, “but what is Crowley going to do?”

“Are you kidding me?” Dean’s voice got louder. “You know what he’s capable of!”

Sam continued, “He’s chained down inside a Devil’s Trap! She doesn’t even need to get close to him!”

“True! I’ll stay all the way across the room!” Jessica added. “All I have to do is ask him a few questions. Besides, I think he kinda likes me better than you two. He might be more willing to talk to me.”

She could almost picture the look that must have screwed up Dean’s face at the moment.

“That’s not a good thing, Jessica!” Dean roared.

Sam prodded, “Dean, c’mon, just let her try! If Crowley starts acting up she’ll just get out of there, won’t you, Jess?”

She nodded her head in agreement, but then realized they couldn’t see her. “Of course! I promise, Dean. I won’t let him get under my skin.”

After several minutes of complaining and grumbling on the other end, Dean finally consented to letting her interrogate Crowley, but not without a warning of a possible “I told you so” to come if things went off course.

Hanging up with the brothers, Jessica decided that it might be best to butter Crowley up a little if she wanted his help, so before she headed into the dungeon she made a quick trip, at least as quick as her little legs would walk, into town to hit up the liquor store. Crowley liked his scotch, but he had distinguished taste, and even though he drank the swill that she offered up last time a better, more refined bottle would be a nice gesture to loosen him up and get him talking. She didn’t know what was the best brand, or what kind of selection a liquor store in the middle of Kansas would even carry, but it couldn’t hurt to ask the clerk for help. After a lot of unnecessary explaining about notes of flavor with words like “earthy” and “pine”, “spice” and “moor”, Jessica just took the clerk’s word for it and bought what he said was the best scotch the place carried, a Laphroaig Quarter Cask Single Malt that ran her about seventy bucks! At least she had one of the fraudulent credit cards that Sam and Dean gave her to pay for it.

Arriving back at the bunker, Jessica grabbed two glasses from the bar cart in the library and carried them with the new bottle of Laphroaig into the dungeon with her. The boys had left Crowley in the dark, and when she turned on the lights and pulled the shelving apart, Crowley was squinting to allow his eyes to adjust to the sudden light. A slight smile crossed his face when she entered.

“Pumpkin! You’re back!” he said with delight, “Can’t stay away from the dark side I see.”

Jessica pasted a placating smile for him, “I brought you a treat.” She set the two glasses down on the nearby table and tore the foil off the top of the bottle. “Crap,” she said aloud, “I need a corkscrew!” It was obvious she didn’t drink whiskey very often, or like, at all. “I’ll be right back,” she said apologetically and headed off to the kitchen to find the tool she needed. “Real smooth, Jess,” she said aloud to herself as she rifled through the kitchen drawers, “maybe Crowley will take pity on you now and just tell you where Kevin is.” When she finally found a corkscrew, she went back to the dungeon to find an amused smirk on Crowley’s face.

“Whiskey’s not really my thing, if you can’t tell by now.” Maybe a little self-deprecating would help clear the awkwardness she felt.

“You don’t say?” Crowley sassed.

So much for it being less awkward.

Jessica finally got the cork out and poured a little into each glass, handing one to Crowley, who took it appreciatively before raising it in toast to her kindness and knocking it back quickly. She on the other hand got a whiff of it before even putting it to her lips and scrunched up her nose before setting it down on the table untasted. 

“You just gonna waste that?” Crowley asked.

She picked the glass back up, took another whiff, and handed it over to Crowley. “Better you than me.”

The King downed the liquid and handed the two glasses back to her. “What is it you want, dear?”

“Why do you think I want something?” she asked, her face awash in faux confusion.

“My guess is that once Mutt and Jeff found out you and I had bonded, you were forbidden to enter my rather dank and frankly uncomfortable cell again, so therefore you are either rebelling – kudos to you if that’s the case – or you need something desperately and you require my assistance. The scotch is a nice touch by the way.”

She poured another glass and handed it to him. “Kevin’s gone. We need to find him.”

“Ah,” Crowley said between sips, “took my advice did he?”

“What exactly did you say to him that made him so upset?” Jessica pried.

“Just the truth, love.”

Okay, so this was going to be like pulling teeth. “And that truth would be…?”

Crowley tapped his glass, and Jessica poured another belt of whiskey in. “Tell you what, you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

“What exactly do you want, Crowley?” Jessica asked tentatively. Dean would have told her to get out by now, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. _It might end up hurting you though,_ the rational voice in her head reasoned. 

“Fulfill my curiosity, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Crowley bargained, “How did you come to get involved with the brothers Winchester?”

That’s it? That’s all he wanted to know? This wasn’t going to be that hard. “Um…well, I went to bed one night in Florida, and when I woke up the next morning I was in Kansas.”

A look of confusion crossed Crowley’s face.

“Yeah, crazy, huh? It gets weirder!” she went on, “I come to find out that not only had I been transported to a different state in my sleep, but also into a different universe where my favorite television show about two monster hunting brothers was actually real, and not on T.V.”

“So, you are from another dimension where all this is _fictional_?” Crowley reiterated.

“Yep! Once I wrapped my head around where I was, I set off to find Sam and Dean, and after some reluctance and suspicion I finally won them over and they have accepted me as one of their own. The end.”

There was a long moment of silence between them, Crowley clearly wrapping his head around the story. “So, basically you’re here out of a spot of bad luck?”

“I wouldn’t say it was _bad_ luck,” Jessica defended her circumstance.

Crowley huffed, “My dear, being stuck with the Winchesters is most certainly bad luck.”

“My turn now,” Jess hedged, “what did you say to Kevin that made him so upset?”

“Nothing I haven’t said to you. Get out while you can, hanging around the Winchesters will get you dead, you can do better…”

Jessica smirked, “I don’t think that is what sent Kevin running.”

Crowley sighed, “No, but it should have. I honestly don’t know why no one believes me when I say the Winchesters are no good!”

“Please, Crowley, cut the crap and tell me what you said to Kevin,” she said exasperated.

“Fine,” he responded, “I may have told him that his dear old mum was less dead than I had alluded to before. My guess is that he probably went to go find out if I was lying or not.”

Jessica closed her eyes in frustration before asking one final question. “Were you lying, Crowley?”

“No.”

*****

“We’ve got burritos!” Dean announced loudly as he and Sam returned from their hunt.

Jessica wandered into the War Room from the hallway to greet them and excitedly rushed to hug Cas when she saw the boys had him in tow. “You found him!” she exclaimed, turning to look at Dean who was holding up a greasy bag of tex-mex like it was the Holy Grail or something. “You might have wanted to lead with that over the burritos,” she sassed back.

“But these are from Scott’s Kitchen in Kansas City,” Dean declared, obviously proud of himself for bringing home the burritos, “Barbeque burritos at their finest!” He pursed his lips and nodded to them all excitedly. They all stared back at him blankly and his face fell. “No one cares? Fine I’ll just put them over here if anyone wants one…” he continued to mumble something incoherently as he carried the bag and the Styrofoam tray of drinks into the library and sat them down on the table, grabbing a tightly wrapped bundle from the bag and tearing into it. “Mmmph!” he exclaimed after shoving more than a mouthful into his mouth, “These are so good!”

He continued to eat as Sam and Cas filled Jessica in on what had gone down in Detroit. Cas, being human, wasn’t feeling too hot after all that had transpired and wanted to get cleaned up so Jessica went off to show him where the shower room was and to get him a clean towel to use. His brother made his way up to the library and dug into the bag for his own burrito. “Oh, now you want one?” Dean teased.

Sam just shook his head and grabbed his drink to take a sip, before unwrapping his own miracle burrito and tucking in. 

When Jessica walked back in, Dean dipped his hand into the bag again, grabbing another one and tossing it her way. She fumbled it for a second, caught unaware by the action, but managed to hold onto it. “Careful with that,” Dean chided, “it’s a treasure!”

“It’s just a burrito, Dean,” Jess rolled her eyes and hopped up onto the table. “So, my talk with Crowley was somewhat successful.”

“Did he tell you where Kevin is?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly, but he did tell me that Mrs. Tran is alive and I’m betting that Kevin went off to try and find her,” she explained before taking a bite of her burrito. “Oh my God! This is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth!”

Dean choked on his last bite. 

“Are you alright?” Jess asked him, genuinely concerned.

He swallowed and nodded. “Mmm hmm,” a goofy grin plastered on his face.

It seemed to take her a minute, but she finally realized why he was giggling like a school girl. “Jesus, Dean! How old are you?”

He just shrugged and smiled back at her. He couldn’t help that her choice of words made him think of…well, things that he probably shouldn’t be thinking about her. He cleared his throat and abandoned his grin. “Crowley’s probably lying, and if he isn’t, there’s no telling what kind of shape Mrs. Tran’s in.”

“Did Crowley tell you where she was? Or, even tell Kevin for that matter?” Sam pondered.

“He didn’t tell me, and I’m not sure whether Kevin knows or not, but it’s a start, right?”

Sam’s eyebrows went up and he tilted his head, “It’s a thin lead at best, but yeah, it’s something.” He walked over to the bookshelf, fingering the spines along the middle row until he found what he was looking for. “Maybe we can find a locator spell to narrow down where to find Mrs. Tran.”

“Why wouldn’t you just use one to find Kevin?” Jessica queried.

Dean looked at his brother curiously, amused that Sam hadn’t thought of that before.

“Oh shut it, you didn’t think of it either,” Sam retorted, interpreting the look Dean gave him correctly.

“Well, I’m glad I wasted my time interrogating Crowley,” Jessica said with mock bitterness, “Is one of these for me?” She pointed at the drinks.

“Yeah, there all the same, just take one,” Dean responded before heading down the stairs to the War Room again, Sam and Jessica following him.

Sam had a sudden thought, continuing a conversation from earlier that was never resolved, “You know, you never answered my question. How did you know where to find Cas?”

“I told you. Went through Maurice’s pockets, found and address, and took a shot,” Dean stated matter-of-factly through a mouthful of burrito.

Sam looked confused. “I never saw you go through Maurice’s pockets…”

Dean swallowed his bite and gestured like his brother was crazy, mostly to cover up that he was lying through his teeth. “What are you talking about? I don’t see half the nerdy stuff you do, it doesn’t mean you don’t do nerdy stuff!” He took a sip of his drink to punctuate what he thought was an excellent point. Sam didn’t look like he was going to quit his questioning, but luckily Cas came back into the room and interrupted. Gotta love Cas’s timing!

“I am really enjoying this place,” Castiel exhaled as he entered. They all stopped to look at him. “Plentiful food, good water pressure,” the excitement lit up his face like a little kid who just found out he got a puppy for Christmas, “things I never even considered before. There really is a lot to being human isn’t there?”

Dean sat down on the edge of the table and shared his wisdom, “It ain’t all just burritos and strippers my friend.” He took another bite of his food and ignored the derisive and somewhat amused looks on both his brother and Jessica’s faces.

Cas continued, “Yeah, I understand what you’re saying.”

“You do?” Sam buzzed, clearly amused with the conversation.

"Yes!” Cas nodded with the satisfaction that he understood something new, “There’s more to humanity than survival, you – you look for purpose, and you must not be defeated by anger or despair.” He thought for a moment, a lightbulb going off upstairs, “Or hedonism for that matter.”

All three of them stopped and looked at him queerly.

“Where does hedonism come into it?” Dean questioned.

Cas smiled, “Well my time with April was very educational.”

Dean looked at Jess, who raised her eyebrows and shook her head, and Sam tried to make sense of what the angel was saying.

“Yeah, I mean, I think that getting killed is something,” Sam chuffed.

Cas stared at him curiously, unsure why they weren’t understanding him. Better speak plainly then. “And having sex.”

Dean once again choked on his food. “You had sex with April?”

“Yeah, that would be where the hedonism comes in,” Sam explained.

“Shh,” Dean shut him up wanting more info. They all were looking at Cas now, waiting, but he just stood there with a slight grin on his face. Dean interrogated him some more, “So, did you have protection?”

This seemed to confuse Cas for a moment. “I had my angel blade.”

Dean was taken aback, “Oh, he had the angel blade.” He was finding this very amusing.

“Okay, well, on that note,” Jess announced, “I’m gonna go check on that pie I have in the oven.” She got up to head to the kitchen.

Dean’s train of thought was interrupted momentarily, “You’ve got a pie in the oven?”

“I don’t know why you’re pretending you didn’t know,” Jessica said over her shoulder without stopping or turning around. 

Dean smiled and turned back to Cas and took another sip of his drink. He needed to know more about his friend’s hedonistic encounter.


	14. "Eldorado"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very cannon/episode heavy so just a disclaimer again: I do not own these characters or any of the situations or dialogue borrowed from the show Supernatural. I am merely using these scenes to anchor my OFC into the plot of the show.

“Wow! That Joffrey’s a dick!” Dean pressed the stop button on the remote. He, Sam, and Jessica were watching the first season of _Game of Thrones_ with Charlie, who had been summoned to help them with a little project of the technical kind. Earlier that day, Sam had the brilliant idea to wire up the map table in the War Room so that they could track the angels who had fallen after Metatron kicked them all out of Heaven. The only problem was that none of them could figure out exactly how to make the ancient Men of Letters computer work, let alone program it to do their bidding. 

Enter Charlie.

Within an hour she had the dinosaur of a system downloading information to her laptop, but since that was going to take more than a while, the four of them were now sitting in Sam’s room binge-watching GOT. It was actually what Dean had had in mind when he bought it for Sam on his way back from checking on Kevin. Yeah, they found him. The kid was seriously cracked and in need of a break, so they left him alone in a motel room in Branson to get some rest. He was no good to them tweaked out. Dean left the Angel Tablet with him just in case he had a breakthrough though.

Charlie laughed at Dean’s commentary, “Oh ho, oh you have no idea! Wait until he…”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sam stopped her, “spoilers! I haven’t read all the books yet.”

Charlie put her hands up in surrender. She wouldn’t want anyone to ruin it for her so she understood.

“You’re gonna read the books?” Dean puzzled, gesturing toward the television.

“Yes, Dean, I like to read books,” Sam teased, “You know the one’s without pictures?”

Jessica turned to look over her shoulder at Dean. She was lying on her stomach between him and Charlie on Sam’s bed, her socked feet resting just below the headboard while Charlie and Dean sat upright against it. The look of befuddlement on Dean’s face made her snicker.

“What so funny?” Dean asked her.

“Your face right now,” she chuckled back at him.

Dean pulled a face, and mocked her in his whiniest voice, “Your face right now!” It only made her laugh harder. Dean took the last swig of his beer.

Charlie eyeballed Sam and he gave her an amused look.

“Man, this bed is about as comfortable as a brick,” Charlie complained, mostly to ease the tension in the room, but her plan didn’t really work that well. She got up and walked over to the DVD player to change out the disc. “Any plans on moving in anytime soon?”

“I am moved in,” Sam hedged, “this is just my style.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Yeah this is his uh…style.” Sarcasm dripped from his tongue.

Sam continued to bicker with him. “Well I’m sorry I haven’t hung up the uh ‘Hang in There Kitty’ poster yet, Dean. Feel free to redecorate.”

“So what our home’s not good enough for the ‘Hang in There Kitty’ poster?” Dean challenged. He seemed more offended than he should have been.

“This isn’t our home,” Sam argued, “This is where we work.”

“What’s the difference?” his brother countered. He and Sam stared at each other for a moment, while Charlie looked around the room at anything but them and Jessica focused on pulling a loose thread off Sam’s blanket. They were both cranky today for some odd reason, and it was seriously sucking the fun out of their little slumber party. Dean ultimately gave up on the argument, getting up from the bed. “Alright, well, I’m gonna get us some more beers, how ‘bout that?” His hand dropped down hard on Jessica’s rear, starling her and making her yelp involuntarily.

“Ouch, Dean, what the Hell?” she exclaimed pushing herself up on her knees.

“C’mon, help me get some more snacks,” he said as he continued to walk out the door.

Jessica sighed and grabbed the empty popcorn bowl that was sitting on the mattress behind her, and then followed him out into the hallway.

Charlie turned around after she was sure the two of them were out of earshot and looked at Sam. “What’s up with those two? Any progress on that front?”

Sam chuffed and shook his head, “They keep dancing around each other. It’s obvious they like each other but neither of them will admit it or do anything about it. It’s starting to get ridiculous.”

“Super obvious, right? What are they waiting for?”

In the kitchen, Jessica was heating up another Jiffy Pop on the stove while Dean grabbed several more beers out of the fridge. There was nothing but silence between them until finally Jessica broke the awkwardness. “What’s up with you tonight?” she asked as she watched the foil pouch on the popcorn expand.

“What do you mean?” Dean responded.

“You seem kind of grumpy for no reason whatsoever,” she continued, “You were fine earlier. Did something happen?”

He unfolded an old six-pack carrier that was sitting in a pile for recycling and placed the bottles he pulled out of the fridge inside. “Nothing. Just lots of stuff going on right now.”

“Like what? I mean, I know the angel stuff, and poor Kevin’s off his rocker, and Cas is off on his own right now, but we kind of have everything else under control.”

"So what that’s not enough for you to worry about?” he snapped back. Her face fell before she turned back to the popcorn and he immediately regretted it. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” he couldn’t find the words to articulate what he wanted to say.

“It’s okay,” she said, turning the burner off and pulling the foil apart with a fork so she could dump the popcorn out into the bowl. She didn’t look at him though.

Dean grabbed her elbow gently, turning her to face him. “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m not mad at you.” The tiniest of smiles formed on her lips. “Are we good?” he asked.

Her smile widened, “Yeah, we’re good.”

Dean grabbed the beer and Jessica carried the popcorn back to Sam’s room. By that time Charlie had the next disc cued up and ready to go. They watched two more episodes before heading back to the computer to check on their progress.

Charlie opened the door and the rest of them followed her inside. “Download should be done by now,” she announced, but the computer was temporarily forgotten when they saw the shelf had been moved from the wall. They stopped in their tracks and examined it for a moment, before Dean and Sam moved closer.

“What the Hell?” Dean asked and then he and his brother moved the shelf aside to expose a large cocoon of sorts that was covering much of the wall behind it.

“Um, was that there before?” Jessica asked.

“Definitely not,” Sam replied, looking at his brother in alarm.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and was about to cut into the thing when Jessica interrupted him.

“Dean? Maybe you shouldn’t do that,” she suggested, “It looks kinda bad.”

“We need to know what it is, Jess,” he countered.

She closed her eyes, “Oh my God if it’s a giant spider I’m gonna die. This is a nightmare. This is one of my nightmares coming true.” She started pacing.

“Hey, hey, calm down alright,” Sam assured her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder, “Breathe.”

Dean turned back toward the giant chrysalis and inserted the knife into it at eye-level, ripping it downward. Puffs of smoke seemed to emanate from inside it, and without warning, it popped open and something came flying out.

Jessica screeched and jumped back, giving everyone else in the room a start. “Is it a spider? Please tell me it’s not a spider?”

“It’s not a spider,” Dean assured her, but he was clearly confused by the sight before him. A human arm had emerged.

Charlie stopped what she was doing with her laptop to move around Sam and get a better look, while Sam drew his gun. It wasn’t a giant spider, but it still could be dangerous. They watched as Dean pried the papery casing apart and they all jumped back when a full body fell out and onto the floor before them. 

It was a girl, who seemed to be unconscious at the moment, but when Dean eased her onto her back, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. 

*****

“Dorothy fricken Gale! Dorothy! Oh man, this is crazy!” Charlie enthused, “Are your days always this exciting around here?”

Jessica rummaged through the card catalog in the corner of the library to find out where the Men of Letters stashed their files on an encounter with the very real Dorothy of Oz in 1935. “Well, let’s see, most of the time I’m either researching, cooking and cleaning for those two idjits, or sitting alone in this vast expanse of a Batcave worrying if the boys will be coming home from one hunt or another. Not to mention the times when some ancient Greek god shoots me up with a lightning bolt or I botch a binding ritual so that I’m nearly at the brink of death, so…no!”

“But, you wouldn’t leave right?” Charlie asked, as you handed her a card that noted the location of the file in question.

“Not for the world,” Jess smiled. “I guess the mundane aspects of this life aren’t so bad when you get to see the look on Dean’s face when I bake him one of his favorite pies or when Sam and I bond over watching his brother act like a total idiot.”

The two girls walked into a nearby storage room and opened up the file cabinet listed on the card. Charlie pulled the folder they were looking for and turned to face Jessica again. “So, basically, Dean makes everything worth it?” She smiled knowingly at Jess, who became increasingly flustered by the observation.

“Well, no…I mean…there’s other stuff…Sam, he’s sweet…helping save people…is…good,” Jessica sighed and gave up. Charlie was seeing straight through her and really, what would be so bad about having a good girlfriend to confide in about how she felt about him? “Okay, fine, Dean is,” she smiled widely, “a complete dork, but…”

“Uh huh,” Charlie responded simply. She intertwined her arm around Jessica’s and headed back to the computer room. “Let’s go find out more about Oz!”

Once they made it back to the brothers and to a recovering Dorothy, they listened as their new houseguest recalled what happened on that fateful day in the thirties, when she trapped the wicked witch and herself in a glass bottle using powerful binding magick to seal them away for eternity, or at least until Dean managed to knock said bottle over and release them. But if Dorothy was free then so was the witch, which meant that they had a serious problem on their hands. According to Dorothy, she couldn’t be killed, so every moment they stood around talking was putting all of them in danger. They had to find a way to stop her before she stopped them.

“Wait, if she’s here then why didn’t she kill you?” Sam asked.

Dorothy rolled her eyes. “She can’t,” she responded.

“You’re protected by the Witch of the North’s kiss!” Charlie added with excitement. Dean looked at her oddly. “It’s from the books.”

“Oh forget the books!” Dorothy exclaimed, “They’re not important! I’m protected, you aren’t! Now the witch came here looking for something. I have no idea what it is, but we have to find her before she finds it!”

“Alright, alright,” Dean conceded, “Charlie dig in the files see if you can find anything that puts a dent in the witch. Sam and I will have a looksee. Jessica…”

“I know, I know, to the dungeon where it’s safe right?” She responded.

“No, that’s _not_ safe,” he replied, “Go to your room, lock the door, and don’t come out until Sam or I tell you.”

Jessica sighed, “Fine, Rapunzel will go back to her tower, but I have to stop by the kitchen first. I have a pie in the oven.”

“How many pies are you going to make this week?” Sam questioned.

"Hey! She can make as many as she wants!” Dean defended her, “Fine, get the pie out of the oven and then get to your room.” Jessica nodded and headed for the door until Dean stopped her. “Hey!” he grabbed ahold of her arm, “Be careful.” His eyes expressed both a warning and uncertainty.

Jessica headed to the kitchen, and boys took off down the hall peeking in room after room and searching for the witch. Guns drawn, they opened the door to the dungeon and scanned the room for any sign of the hag. Sam switched on the lights and they both cautiously walked towards Crowley, who was still trussed up in his demon chains and was now whistling “Over the Rainbow” with an amused smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t the Scarecrow and the Tinman,” he paused, “Your new houseguest, so misunderstood.” Sam and Dean remained silent, their faces showing how _not_ amused they were at Crowley’s antics. Crowley continued, “Either of you saw _Wicked?_ ”

Sam cut to the chase, “What did she say to you?”

“Something along the lines of…Hchhhhhhssss,” replied Crowley, matter-of-factly, and also somewhat snarkily.

Dean wasn’t having any of his crap, “Well, I’m gonna go get some holy oil and a lighter, Dickbag!”

“I know what she’s looking for,” Crowley announced, non-plussed.

Sam pressed him, “What does she want?”

“I’ll be happy to tell you,” Crowley offered back, “as soon as I get to stretch my legs.” He smiled smugly, as the two brothers looked at each other with a mixture of frustration and _we have no other choice._

Sam trained his gun on the King of Hell, while Dean unlocked the shackles around Crowley’s neck, the demon blade hovering close to his neck as Dean backed away again. Once the King made a show of taking the collar off his neck and stretching upward, and a gunshot to the shoulder a la Dean, Crowley finally gave them the intel they were looking for. The witch was looking for a key. He didn’t know what kind, but Crowley had sent her on a goose-chase through the bunker to find it.

“Told her you boys kept the keys in the kitchen,” he smiled, “You do have a kitchen in this craphole don’t you?”

Sam and Dean looked at each other with alarm. “Jessica,” they both exclaimed before turning and heading out the door.

“Pumpkin? She wasn’t in there was she?” Crowley called behind them, alarmed.

The two ignored him, and the fact that he remained unchained in the dungeon behind them. All they could focus on was getting to Jessica. When they turned the corner into the doorway, the kitchen was in disarray. It looked as if a rabid raccoon had rummaged through their trash; pots and pans, food containers, and broken dishes strewn everywhere. The pie Jessica had taken out of the oven was turned upside down on the tile floor, gooey apple filling oozing out of the tin. Dean made his way around the island, gun drawn, but found no trace of Jessica or the witch.

“I swear if she’s hurt, I will end Crowley!” he grunted through clenched teeth. A shadow danced at the corner of his eye and he trained his gun towards the open doorway, causing Sam to turn his sights on the intruder as well. False alarm; it was just Charlie and Dorothy. Dean closed his eyes in frustration at almost having popped the two girls.

“Sorry,” Charlie said, needing no explanation as to their jumpiness, “I raided your gun range, made us some poppy bullets.” She held them out toward the boys. “They won’t kill the witch, but they will stun the crap outta her.”

Dean grabbed the two she handed to him, “That’s my girl.” He passed one to Sam and began loading his gun. “You guys haven’t seen Jessica have you?”

“No,” Charlie replied, gears turning in her head as she took in the state of the kitchen in front of her, “Why? Is she okay?”

“We don’t know,” Sam replied worriedly, “but the witch was obviously in here, and Jess was headed here when we left to take the pie out of the oven.”

The girls looked down at the mess of pie spread all over the floor in front of Dean’s feet. “Oh geez!” Charlie exclaimed. “Do you think she’s…”

  
“Well, there’s one way to find out. She should be in her room if she made it out of here in time. Sam go with Dorothy to find the witch before she gets her hands on this key she’s looking for…” Dean began barking orders.

Dorothy interrupted, “Key? She’s looking for the key?”

“Wait, what key?” Charlie asked, confused.

“The key to Oz,” Dorothy explained, “There are magickal ways into Oz: Tornado, eye of a hurricane, whirlpool. But this key will turn any locked door into a portal to Oz. Insert key, twist, and presto…you’re in Oz.”

“How did the Men of Letters get the key?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea, but if she finds it she’ll go back and finish what she started. Many will die,” Dorothy panicked.

“Alright well, we can’t let that happen,” Dean picked up his line from before, “What’s this key look like?”

Dorothy pulled her journal out of her coat pocket and flipped to a page with an ornate looking drawing, showing it to Dean. Recognition registered on his face, “I’ve seen that key. I found it when I was doing inventory.”

“Where is it now?” Dorothy asked.

“My room,” he responded, “We gotta get to that key! Alright, Charlie and I will go look in my room. We’ll swing by Jessica’s on the way to make sure she’s okay. Why don’t you guys buy us some time.” Dean looked toward his brother and Sam nodded in affirmation. Dorothy followed Sam out into the hallway and Dean turned back to Charlie, who was already moving toward the hall herself. “Charlie!” Dean stopped her, “Safest place in this joint is the dungeon.”

She blinked in surprise, and a little disbelief, “You have a dungeon in this place? Of course you do.” It didn’t take her long to accept the weirdness that kept coming her way.

“So, maybe you should…” Dean didn’t finish his sentence. The look on his face finished his thought perfectly.

“I’m not hiding,” Charlie resisted, “especially in a dungeon! Wicked Witch, a key, a quest…let’s do this!” She punched Dean’s arm excitedly and headed out down the hall towards Jessica’s room. 

Dean sighed heavily, knowing full well she wasn’t going to be convinced and rolled his eyes in resignation as he followed her out into the corridor. His much longer stride allowed him to quickly catch up to her and they both eased around the next corner cautiously in case the witch was hanging around. When they determined the coast was clear, they swiftly made their way to Jessica’s bedroom door. It was closed, and a quick turn of the knob revealed that it was locked, which meant she had made it there after all. But Dean was having second thoughts about how safe she might be in there, especially if the witch was on a destructive scavenger hunt for the key to Oz. Who knew where she’d look for the thing, and since Wicked already hit the dungeon and struck out, it would probably be best if Jess followed the advice that he had just given to Charlie, unsuccessfully.

He rapped softly at the door. “Jess, it’s Dean. Can you come out here please?” A pregnant pause held him hovering there, his face tilted toward the door, listening. He lifted his hand to knock again, but the door opened a crack, and Jessica’s blue eyes peered through at him. 

“Is everything alright? The witch, did you guys get her?” she asked as she tentatively opened the door wider.

“No, but are _you_ alright?” Dean asked with concern, “The witch ransacked her way through the kitchen. You didn’t run into her did you?”

Jessica blinked in surprise, “No! Thank God!”

“Alright, c’mon then. I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but I think you’ll be safer in the dungeon with Crowley.” Dean felt dirty just saying it. 

A cackle bounced off the hard surfaces around them, setting them on high alert.

“Um…you know what? I think, I’ll just stay with you guys,” Jessica announced shakily.

Dean looked at her incredulously, “Uh, no, get to the dungeon. You’ll be safer there.”

“Okay, but what if I run into her on the way, and you’re not with me?” Jessica challenged.

He stared at her sternly, but his mind was running through the scenario. He didn’t like that idea either, not one bit. Dean mumbled something unintelligible under his breath before responding. “Fine. Come with us, but stay close and if there’s trouble, you get the hell out of there, got it?”

Jessica nodded at him with a slight smile, relieved that she wouldn’t be alone if she encountered the witch. Some hunter she was turning out to be! She was always seemingly ready to jump right in with the Winchesters, but when real trouble turned up her bravery seemed to falter.

The three of them walked quickly and quietly down the hallway to Dean’s room and began searching for the key. Jessica and Charlie took the desk and dresser drawers respectively, while Dean dug through a crate that he kept under his bed. When Charlie finished searching through the dresser, she began sifting through some of the boxes he had piled on top. She pulled down a box off the stack and opened it to find a stash of _Busty Asian Beauties_ magazines, which were neatly arranged in consecutive order by volume, starting with a couple of vintage copies from the 50’s and then more recent additions from the past few years. Charlie turned toward Dean, amused, “You keep your porn meticulously organized, but not…”

Dean looked up at her and stopped her sentence dead in its tracks, “Don’t judge me.” He went back to his crate and continued pulling out boxes to check, while the girls glanced at each other with silent snickers. Finally, he hit pay dirt. “Yahtzee!” he announced as he pulled the key to Oz out of its case with a smile.

Both Jessica and Charlie turned then, simultaneously warning Dean of the sudden appearance of the Wicked Witch in the doorway behind him. “Dean!”

The witch grabbed the key out of his hand and sent him flying backwards across the room, bouncing off the bed and slamming up against the concrete wall. She wasn’t finished with him yet, drawing back her gnarled hand, green electricity crackling between her fingers, as if she were going to deliver a ninety-mile-per-hour fastball of death in his direction.

Jessica stood there, wide-eyed and frozen with fear, but Charlie was quicker on her feet, leaping across the bed and throwing herself between Dean and the witch. The deadly pitch was intercepted, electric emerald currents surging through Charlie’s chest and forcefully slamming her into a side table, splintering it into a hundred pieces beneath her, and giving Dean an opening to draw and shoot a poppy bullet right through the witch’s chest. It sent her spiraling into murky green smoke and she disappeared into the vent above her.

When Jessica saw that the witch had fled she bent down to where Charlie lay a foot away from where she was standing. Pushing her long red hair out of her face, Jessica turned her over and felt for her pulse point. She felt around her neck, trying to locate it, but there was nothing. Jessica looked up at Dean, who was now hovering over the both of them with, with wide eyes. “She’s dead!” She announced alarmed.

Dean gently pushed Jessica aside and squatted down near Charlie’s limp form. He called her name, once, twice, and a third time as he tried to shake her awake. All was in vain, and the pained look that crossed over his face at that realization made the tears that had welled up in Jessica’s eyes start to fall. “Watch out,” he said gently to Jessica as he hooked his arms under Charlie’s knees and the back of her neck, pulling her from the ground and carrying her over to his bed. Dean placed her down softly and tried to wake her one more time, before shouting “No!” into the void, hoping that pure denial would make everything okay again.

Sam’s voice carried through the hallway into the open door of Dean’s room. “Dean?”

Dean straightened up instantaneously, knowing what he had to do. “Zeke!” he called out just as Sam slid into view through the threshold. Sam’s eyes glowed blue and his usual lanky form pulled up into a more poised posture.

Jessica looked at Dean in shock, “Zeke?”

Dean’s hand went out to her, signaling to be patient and quiet. He turned back to the angel that was occupying his brother and pleaded, “You have to help her.”

Jessica watched as Sam walked stoically into the room, examining Charlie’s body with steely intensity. It wasn’t Sam. An icy rush flowed through her body, and she took a step back to observe whatever was coming next, her eyes darting uncertainly between Dean and whatever had taken residence in Sam’s body.

“She’s gone,” Sam’s voice declared.

“No, you can bring her back like you did with Cas!” Dean exclaimed, frantically.

Sam’s voice spoke again, “I cannot keep doing that.”

Jessica stood in the corner behind Dean, listening to their conversation and putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

Zeke.

As in Ezekiel.

The angel that tried to help them in the hospital in New York, was now in possession of Sam’s body. Had he been in there this whole time?

The angel riding shotgun in Sam’s meatsuit continued explaining, “…every time I use my power, it weakens me, which means I’ll have to stay in your brother longer than you want, longer than we both want.” Ezekiel gave Dean an ultimatum then: he could help with the witch, or bring Charlie back from the dead, but not both.

Jessica watched as Dean weighed the options set before him, but she knew what he would choose, and he didn’t deliberate long before he spoke the words. “Save her.”

Sam’s body walked to the other side of the bed and laid two fingers on Charlie’s forehead. His face became strained and his breathing labored, and in an instant, Charlie sat upright and Sam fell backward into the chest of drawers behind him, knocked unconscious for the moment.

Confusion followed.

Both Charlie and Sam had come out of their brief unconscious states, dazed and bewildered, and Jessica stood by silently as Dean lied through his teeth about what had just happened. When he finished painting the abstract version of his story, he looked to Jessica uncertainly, hoping she wouldn’t spill his secret. She glared at him, but kept her mouth shut. He had some ‘splaining to do, but it could wait. They still had a wicked witch to deal with, and time was running out. 

After Dorothy found them, they split up once again. This time Dorothy hung back with Charlie to help her get back on her feet, while Sam and Dean set off to look for the witch, dropping Jessica off in the dungeon with Crowley on the way. Dean tensed at the thought of leaving her there, but Crowley was still stuck in the Devil’s Trap, and he assured the boys that he would never hurt her. Not that Dean was ready to trust the demon, but he didn’t really have a choice at the moment. He made Jessica promise that she would stay in the opposite corner of the room.

He and his brother continued through the halls toward the heart of the bunker, and as the two of them approached the entrance to the war room, Sam asked, “Who’s Zeke?” His tone was calm, and his focus was still very much on keeping vigilant in case the witch appeared, but he was curious.

Dean tensed at the question, not knowing how to respond. He obviously couldn’t tell his brother the truth, but nothing else was coming to mind at the moment. He settled on stalling for time, “What?” He said it like he had no clue what Sam was talking about.

“When I came into your room,” Sam continued, “before I got zapped, I thought you said the name Zeke. Who’s that?”

“Um…” Dean continued to stall, “You’re still a little punchy man. Let’s just keep moving.” Deflected. Sam passed him and turned the corner into the War Room, while Dean rolled his eyes behind him, relieved that he managed to dodge that topic. That was a whole ‘nother can of worms that didn’t need opening. Dean followed his little brother in and they meticulously checked all the corners and spaces, guns drawn and ready to fire. But Dean was afraid that Sam might continue his line of questioning, so he changed the topic as they continued to sweep the area. “Yeah, why haven’t you moved in?” he asked.

“Is now really the time for this, Dean?” Sam responded without breaking his focus.

“I’m just asking,” Dean continued.

Sam stopped in his tracks and looked at his brother. Two could play at this game. “Why haven’t you told Jessica how you feel about her?” he challenged back.

Dean stopped and dropped his gun and his guard. A mask of confusion painted his face, although it was all for show. He knew Sam would have seen right through him, but he wasn’t ready to admit anything just yet. Turned out he wouldn’t have to at that moment, because the next thing he knew the witch was standing right behind Sam!

*****

Jessica was pacing the floor as Crowley watched. She was worried; about Sam and Dean and about Charlie. She hated not knowing what was going on, and that she wasn’t able to help. Right now she was pissed at herself for being such a coward back there. The witch was threatening Dean and she just froze! If it hadn’t been for Charlie, she might have watched the man she loved die before her very eyes! 

“What’s the matter, Pumpkin?” Crowley drawled.

Jessica stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “I almost let him die,” she said aloud, shifting her eyes shamefully to the floor, her brow furrowed, “If it weren’t for Charlie he…” She couldn’t bear to say it out loud again.

“Let who die? Moose? Squirrel?” Crowley prodded, trying to get a handle on the situation that was playing out around him. It was his only entertainment while he was locked away in the Winchester’s dungeon; a living Tele Novella.

She sat down in front of the King, cross-legged and looked up at him. “Dean,” she spilled, “the witch almost got him, and I just stood there frozen like an idiot! I should have done something, should have tried to save him!”

Crowley looked at her for a minute, putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. “So that’s what you are doing here,” he sussed out.

“What?” Jessica asked still irritated.

The King sighed heavily. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he sort of liked this girl. Well, as much as a demon could like a human. “You’ve gone and fallen for that knob-end. Trust me, Pumpkin, you can do better.”

Jessica sprang to her feet, nervous energy forcing her to pace once again as she ignored Crowley’s musing. 

Crowley continued anyway, “I’ve told you before, getting involved with a Winchester is like walking into an airplane propeller, you’ll just end up getting shredded before all is said and done. Trust me, darling, I would know.” 

“I wish I knew what was going on out there,” Jessica continued to ignore him. She was gnawing at her fingernails. 

“Why does no one listen to me?” Crowley sighed.

“I should go out there and help,” Jessica resolved.

Crowley rolled his eyes, “And do what exactly, other than die?”

Jessica huffed at him, but he was right. What exactly _did_ she think she was going to do? Hadn’t she proven already she wasn’t up to the task? When all of this was over, some things were going to need to change around here. First of all, she needed the boys to train her. Maybe she wouldn’t be a hardcore hunter, but she should at least be able to defend herself if need be. She already seemed to be a natural in the gun range, but it couldn’t hurt to practice there either. It could have been a fluke, after all.

“Ah, there it is,” Crowley said, looking up at nothing in particular.

“What are you talking about, Crowley?” Jessica asked. He was acting suspicious.

He looked dead into her eyes. “The Wicked Witch seems to have succeeded in her task. The door to Oz is open.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I can feel the shift in the energy of the place. It’s seeping in,” Crowley explained, “Guess the Winchesters failed spectacularly once again.” 

Jessica’s breath quickened and she turned, wide-eyed, away from the King of Hell and took off through the store room door. She faintly heard Crowley calling to her, but she couldn’t make out the words, all she could hear was her own blood pumping through her as she ran down the corridor and into the war room. Above her in the Crow’s Nest, the bunker door was indeed open, but the dark and dusty stairwell that was usually behind it had been replaced by a sky of fire, partially blocked by the Wicked Witch’s black silhouette. 

Charlie appeared at the War Room entrance opposite of her. “Jess,” She called as she tossed a red patent-leather pump at her, “the witch!”

Jessica caught it and nodded, heading up the wrought-iron staircase and lodging the stiletto point of the heel into the back of the Wicked Witch’s head. The witch turned to face her, confused as to what had struck her, and snarled. Not knowing what to do next, Jessica again froze in terror, but Charlie was right behind her, brandishing the second shoe. 

“Now heel!” Charlie reared back and then plunged the point into the witch’s face.

The witch was dead and melting into a puddle at their feet, but the door to Oz was still open, and the flying monkeys were screeching through the air straight for them. Charlie grabbed the door and pulled, but it was heavy and she struggled with its weight. “Jess, help me!”

Jessica moved next to her and grabbed ahold of the handle, her added strength helping to yank the door shut just in time. The orange glowing eyes of one of the witch’s monkeys, was the last thing they saw through the crack of the door. The two girls stood there a moment, dumbstruck by the events that had just unfolded, but then Charlie pushed the door back open to see if Oz was still there. The metal creaked and revealed the old dusty stairwell once more.

*****

Once Charlie and Jessica regrouped with the boys and Dorothy, they set about cleaning up the mess of the day. Dean went outside to get Baby and pull her around to the garage entrance, while Sam headed back to the dungeon to secure Crowley again. The girls headed into the garage and helped Dorothy sort through all the stuff she had left at the bunker before she had locked herself away with the witch all those years ago. They moved out of the way when the Impala rolled into the garage from the underground tunnel that led up to the surface outside. Dean parked her and got out, joining the girls and making small talk with Dorothy as she loaded up her bag.

After Sam returned, they all geared up to say goodbye to their new ally, but she surprised them when she asked Charlie to join her on an adventure in Oz. Charlie was stoked by the idea, much to Dean’s chagrin. Reluctantly, he kept his mouth shut, well after he voiced his concerns of course, and the five of them said their goodbyes to one another. Charlie hugged the boys and then pulled Jessica in for a hug as well.

“Thanks for the help up there,” she said, “keep an eye on these idjits, will ya?”

Jessica smiled at her, “Always.”

“You ready?” Dorothy asked Charlie, and with a twist of the key, the double doors opened up onto the most brilliant scene in front of them: The yellow brick road winding down the mountains toward the gleaming Emerald City in the distance.

They all watched silently as Charlie stepped through the threshold and began her newfound quest, the kind of adventure she had always been looking for. She waved at them, and then headed off down the road next to Dorothy as the doors closed behind them.

Jessica breathed deeply and looked up at Sam and Dean. “Well, that was quite a day!” She turned to survey the new garage. “I can’t believe we didn’t find this place earlier. We really need to start exploring this bunker more. I bet there’s all sorts of crazy rooms we don’t know about yet.”

“Hey,” Dean called for her attention. He looked around the garage at all the cars in front of them. “Pick one. I’ll get it running for you.”

Jessica beamed at him. 

It was about damned time!


	15. "Just What I Needed"

“Hand me that wrench,” Dean’s hand reached out, but his head was still buried beneath the hood of the red MGA Twin Cam that Jessica had selected out of the handful of cars that had been left behind when the Kansas Men of Letters chapter had been disbanded.

Jessica picked up the tool he requested and passed it to him.

“Thanks,” he replied, tightening a bolt on the engine. His stood upright again, a dark streak of grease smeared across his left cheek. He let out a heavy breath, “All right, try it again.”

She climbed back into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. The car roared to life, just as it had when she took it downtown that morning to pick up some more groceries for the bunker. Starting it wasn’t the problem. The engine ran fine until you hit a certain speed, and then it was like it powered down for no reason. Dean had noticed that the pistons looked like they were burnt out, but he couldn’t figure out what had caused it.

“Give it some gas, I want to see if it’s something with the fuel line,” Dean shouted over the engine.

Jessica mashed down on the gas pedal for a moment and then released it again.

Dean banged his hand on the hood a few times. “All right cut it.”

Getting back out of the car and closing the door behind her, Jessica joined Dean again at the front of the car.

“See that?” He pointed to the engine, “Looks like the fuel is foaming in the float chamber.”

“Oh yeah,” Jessica nodded, then looked up at Dean, “What does that mean?”

He sighed and closed the hood, “Nothing good. I’ll have to figure out how to fix it. In the meantime, I hate to say it, but looks like you‘re walking again.”

Jessica gave him a sarcastic smirk, “Great! That seems to be how my life works anyhow.”

With a chuckle, Dean put an arm around her shoulders, simultaneously tossing a sullied rag into the nearby toolbox. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it working again. You trust me right?”

She smiled up at him. “Yeah, I trust you.” 

“Hey, what’s that?” Dean asked, looking down curiously at her face.

She looked up at him self-consciously. “What?”

Dean brought his hand up to next to her cheek, which sent her heart racing. With a playful smirk, he wiped a long streak of black grease across her face. “You got some dirt on you or something.”

Jessica knocked his hand away, “Jerk! I just took a shower a couple hours ago!”

“Doesn’t look like it you grease monkey,” he chortled.

She laughed then, “I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

He winked back at her, “No you don’t.”

The two of them walked back into the bunker, Dean heading off to the shower room and Jessica going to her own room to wash the smear off her face. She bent down over her sink and splashed some water on her cheek, rubbing at the dark mark Dean had left there. It only smeared it around more. She shook her head and silently cursed him. Although, she had to admit, it had sent a thrill down her spine too. In the weeks since Charlie headed off to Oz, things between her and Dean had been good. They seemed to have settled into a nice, easy banter instead of their usual bickering. Even with Sam’s situation, Dean had remained in a good mood lately. Their cases had been relatively easy, even somewhat humorous, what with Dean mind-melding with a dog and then getting to kill some Nazis a few weeks back. Things seemed to be looking up, and it had definitely improved everyone’s mood.

When she finally scrubbed the grease off her face, she toweled off and made her way back to the kitchen to put away the rest of the dry goods that she had temporarily abandoned earlier that morning when she and Dean went to take a look at her car. As she was finishing up, Sam lumbered in.

“Morning,” he said through a yawn as he shuffled toward the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.

Jessica glanced at the clock. “Barely,” she remarked, “It’s almost eleven o’clock, sleeping beauty!”

Sam looked up at her sleepily, “Really? Is it that late?”

She walked over to him and examined his face more closely. “You okay, Sam? You don’t look so good.” Jessica placed a hand on his forehead, but Sam pulled away.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

So much for things looking up! Worry fixed itself of Jessica’s face. After the incident with the Wicked Witch, Jessica had pulled Dean aside and demanded he tell her everything that was going on with Ezekiel and Sam. At first she was mad that Dean had kept the information from her, but she could see that the decision hadn’t been easy for him, and she knew how far Dean would go to save his brother. It wasn’t like she could blame him for wanting to keep Sam alive. But the situation Sam was in now was precarious. They didn’t know anything about the angel inside of him, and although Cas had told Dean that Ezekiel was good and it seemed like Zeke was doing all he could to heal Sam from the inside and help the brothers out when they found themselves in a jam, knowing the Winchester’s track record with these sorts of things was making Jessica uneasy. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Do you want some breakfast?” She asked Sam.

“I’ll just grab some cereal,” he replied and shakily stood back up to walk over to the shelf to grab the box of Corn Flakes.

Jessica watched him for a moment, and then decided he’d be alright. She would bring it up with Dean later. Grabbing the milk out of the refrigerator, she handed it off to Sam and then went about putting the dishes that had been drying in the rack, away. “I’m gonna do a load of laundry today,” she announced, “you need me to wash anything?”

Sam didn’t answer her.

“Sam?”

“What? Oh, sorry, um…no I’m good.”

“You sure?” she checked again.

He only nodded.

“Alright, well, eat your breakfast, I’ll be around if you need me.” Jessica reluctantly left Sam to himself in the kitchen and headed down the hall back toward her room. When she turned the corner she almost bumped smack into Dean.

“Whoa there, kiddo,” he grabbed ahold of her to stop her just in time.

“Sorry,” she replied, “and stop calling me that.” 

A childish grin crept up Dean’s face.

Jessica laughed and rolled her eyes. “You suck,” she responded playfully, but then her face turned serious again. “Hey, Sam’s in the kitchen and he seems a little out of it today. You might want to check on him.”

Dean’s face dropped. “What do you mean out of it?”

“I don’t know, he just seems really lethargic or something. Maybe you need to check in with Zeke again and see if Sam’s condition is still progressing.”

With an exasperated sigh, Dean brought a hand up to his face. “Yeah, thanks for the heads up.”

Jessica half smiled at him and went along her way.

When Dean walked into the kitchen, Sam was out cold on the table; his bowl of cereal sitting there getting soggy. Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed another bowl off the shelf, letting it clatter on the table and startling Sam awake.

“Hey,” Dean said sitting down.

Sam let out a breath, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam recovered, “Uh, yeah, just uh…resting my eyes for a second.”

Dean nonchalantly poured himself a bowl of Corn Flakes while keeping a watchful eye on his brother.

Sam wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Um…how’s Kevin?” he asked, “He, uh…he find anything?”

“Uh, jack!” Dean replied, twisting the lid back onto the milk bottle, “Going on about four days no sleep, he looks worse than you.” A curt smile graced his face.

Yawning, Sam continued to make small talk. “What about Crowley? Um, do you think he might be lying about the whole, uh, Metatron spell being irreversible thing?”

“What, Crowley? Lie?”

Sam chuffed at his brothers irreverence.

“I know one thing,” Dean continued, “next time the junky’s jonesing for a hit of blood, we’ve got leverage.” Dean shoved a heaping spoonful of Corn Flakes into his mouth to punctuate his sentence. His little brother yawned again, a full-bellied, deep yawn. “Seriously, you want a pillow?” Dean sassed.

“No,” Sam refused, “No, I’m fine.” Denial.

Dean wasn’t stupid, he knew his brother better than anyone, and he knew what was really going on underneath. He just couldn’t tell Sam. “You’re sick,” he announced.

“No I’m not sick,” Sam shook off his brother’s concern, “I just, uh, I feel like my battery can’t recharge.” He pulled his bowl of soggy cereal back in front of him and began to eat.

Just as Dean was about to argue, he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He dug it out of his shirt pocket and said hello to whoever was on the other end.

It was Jody Mills. 

Dean put her on speaker and she filled the brother in on a bizarre case she stumbled upon in a small town just outside of Sioux Falls where a witness to a kidnapping said he saw someone lift up an SUV to grab the victim. Four other people had disappeared within a week. That was certainly something worth looking into. Whatever was strong enough to lift a car was definitely not human. After telling Jody they’d meet her there, the two of them cleaned up their breakfast and set to packing for the road yet again.

Jessica was in the laundry room when Dean found her to tell her they were leaving. She looked up from folding the last of the bath towels when she heard his knuckles rap against the doorframe. “Hey,” she said in greeting, “What’s up?”

“We’re heading out again,” he answered, and watched her face fall slightly. She tried to cover it, but he caught the look anyhow. Dean hated leaving her there all the time. He knew she must be bored cleaning up after them. When they got back he was going to make a point of getting her out of the bunker for a little bit. Maybe they could all go out for drinks one night at the bar downtown; play a little pool, have a little fun. It might be good for everyone. Kevin was always cooped up there too with his head buried in the Angel Tablet. That kid was also looking worse for wear. “Sheriff Mills called with a case outside of Sioux Falls,” Dean explained, “Sounds like a milk run. We should be in and out.”

Jessica had gone back to folding some sheets she had pulled out of the dryer. “Yeah, you always say that and then you come back all bruised and bloody.”

The corner of Dean’s mouth turned up in a smile at her concern. “Hey, that’s how we roll, kiddo.”

Jessica stopped what she was doing and glared at him. “You might be _leaving_ bruised and bloody if you don’t stop calling me that!” she warned.

Dean laughed, “Oh I’d like to see how that goes for you.”

“What? You think I can’t take you?” She meant it as a joke, but the way it sounded when it came out made her cheeks burn.

The smile on Dean’s face turned serious again, and he unconsciously licked his lips. He cleared his throat and looked away from her. “We better get going,” he changed the subject, “Do us a favor and keep an eye on Kevin while we’re gone. He looks like he needs some sleep and a good meal. Make sure he eats, will ya?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Jessica mocked as she went back to the laundry, thankful for the diversion.

That was until she felt Dean’s warm hand grasp her arm. She looked up at him. His green eyes were full of genuine emotion.

“In case we don’t say it enough,” he began, “thank you for everything you do around here, for taking care of us. It’s nice having someone else around who looks out for my brother. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time in the beginning.”

Jessica smiled up at him, “I know. I can’t imagine what you’d do around here without me.”

Dean chuckled again. “Seriously, though, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

*****

After meeting up with Jody in Hartford, South Dakota, the boys set about working the case. It was definitely looking like something up their alley. Something with superhero strength, blue light like fire, and now they had found out that all the victims had been members of the Good Faith Church, so there was a connection between the vics. It was time to infiltrate the house of worship and see what they could find out. Little did they know they were about to become born-again virgins. All the victims not only went to the same congregation, but were part of the church’s chastity group. If they were going to get to the bottom of this case, they were going to have to play the part. Dean found it quite amusing, but Sam was a little reluctant. It wasn’t like the two of them had never had sex before. But, apparently, the Lord was forgiving and all it took was a promise and a signature and voila…they were virgins again. The irony was not lost on Sam. 

Now they were sitting in on a meeting of the APU, which stood for Abstinence Purifies Us. The group was made up of all women, well ever since Pastor Fred went missing. Dean kept staring at Suzy, the group leader. She looked so familiar to him, like he’d met her before. Sam nudged him to remind him they were here looking into a case. They didn’t have time for Dean’s libido. But it was going to be hard for Dean not to be thinking about sex while they were sitting around talking about it. After Suzy asked Sam what brought him to the group, it was Dean’s turn to confess.

“And you, Dean? What set you on the path away from sin?” Suzy asked sincerely.

Dean was caught off guard for a moment, but being the professional liar that he was, he recovered quickly. “Uh, hard to say exactly. Sex has…always felt…I don’t know…good!” he began, “You know, really, really good.” For some reason an image of Jessica came to the forefront of his mind then. She was folding towels, and she looked up at him and smiled. Dean smiled too, momentarily lost in the thought. When he looked up, all of their eyes were on him, and he remembered where he was. He had to make the group feel like he was taking this vow of chastity seriously, so he straightened up and went on. “But, uh, sometimes it just makes you feel bad, you know? You’re drunk, you shack up, then it’s the whole morning thing like ‘hey that was fun’ and then adiós! Always the adiós.”

Dean had the rapt attention of all the women in the room at this point. They were hanging off his every word. Sam rolled his eyes, but no one noticed.

“You know when you get down to it what’s the big deal right? I mean sure there’s the touching and feeling all of each other. My hands, everywhere, tracing every inch of her body…” As Dean continued to describe how incredible sex felt, his mind drifted back to Jessica, only now the image behind his eyes wasn’t something he had seen before. She was there, lying beneath him on his bed, his hands smoothing along her naked flesh. Her eyes were closed and her back was arched up into him as he thrusted forward into her. A small moan escaped from her lips. “…the two of us moving together, pressing, pulling, writhing…” The image continued to play out in his mind, and he was so enraptured by the thought that he didn’t notice the effect he was having on the room around him. The women were clenching their thighs together, trying to be good, to think pure thoughts while this devilishly sexy man was describing every fantasy they ever had. Dean could have cared less though, because all he could focus on right now was that image of Jessica, the way her body was responding to his. “Then you hit that sweet spot,” he went on, “and everything just builds, and builds, and builds until it all just…” Dean closed his eyes tight and his mouth mimicked an explosion. In his head, Jessica cried out his name.

“Ahem,” Sam issued his disapproval to Dean’s overshare.

Dean was pulled from his reverie, and looked around the room, realizing that he may have just taken it too far. The women looked a bit uncomfortable, but he had no idea that it wasn’t exactly a _bad_ kind of uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he recovered, “but,uh…the whole thing was just a little too…” He couldn’t find the word right away. “Sticky!” He smiled at the group. “So, I got my V-card back! The end!”

*****

Jessica had just finished up dinner, a hearty beef stew that ought to make Kevin feel better; comfort food at its best. She ladled some into three bowls, might as well feed Crowley, and then carried them out to the library on a tray. After calling for Kevin to join her, she walked down the hallway to drop off a bowl to Crowley before sitting down and eating with the prophet. He was already through half his bowl by the time she got there.

“This is good,” he said between slurps, “good thing I’m not a vegan anymore.”

Jessica looked up appalled, “Oh, Kevin, I’m sorry…I forgot…I wasn’t thinking!”

Kevin waved her off, “No, it’s okay. Seriously, I haven’t been vegan since I left that God awful boat. It’s good, I needed this.” He went about finishing up his bowl.

The two of them ate - Kevin had seconds - in relative silence. When they finished Jess got Kevin to help her do the dishes and she separated what was left into two containers, one for the fridge and one for the freezer for later. It was always good to have something ready to heat up around the bunker, especially now that she had four men to feed. Well, she didn’t _need_ to feed Crowley, but she always felt better if she at least offered, and lately he would eat whatever she gave him. Whether it was out of hunger or boredom she didn’t know. After cleaning up the kitchen, she convinced Kevin to take a break from the tablet for a little while and they played a game of Monopoly instead. 

“I should be translating,” Kevin worried as he rolled the doubles he needed to get out of jail.

Jessica rolled the dice, landing on Indiana Avenue and counting out $250 to hand over to Kevin, who had just put a second house on it before he landed himself in the clink. “You need a break, Kev! The tablet will be there tomorrow, and you look like crap.”

“Thanks,” Kevin deadpanned, rolling and moving six spaces to St. James Place, just missing Jessica’s railroad.

Jessica frowned at his luck. Her cash was dwindling and she was coming up on Kevin’s row of death. The kid could play some Monopoly! “I just mean you need some rest. You’ve been at it for weeks now, you barely take a break, let alone a shower,” that was a not-so-subtle suggestion, “you’re burning your wick at both ends! I know it’s important, but you have to take care of yourself too.”

“I’m fine,” Kevin dismissed her concern, “I have to keep my eyes on the prize. I just need to be done with this. I need to find out if my mother is really still out there.”

“Kevin, I get it, I really do,” Jessica went on, “but you have to pace yourself. This is a marathon, not a race.”

They were interrupted by the door scraping open in the Crow’s Nest. Sam and Dean had returned from their case and they looked tired and hungry. Jessica got up from her place at the table to greet them.

“You’re back!” she smiled at them, “you hungry?”

“Starving,” Dean enthused.

The Winchesters headed into the library with Kevin, while Jessica went to heat up some of the stew she put away earlier. Once it was ready she plated it up and headed back into the library. The boys thanked her and tucked in appreciatively. They filled her and Kevin in on their tangle with Vesta. The brothers had come up against more than a few gods and goddesses lately, it was kind of unsettling if Jessica really thought about it. But they bested yet another, and she couldn’t help feeling proud of them. It’s one of the reasons she loved them so much. They were true heroes, they never backed down and the always got the job done. Thankfully, this time neither of them came home hurt.

“You want another beer, Dean?” Jessica asked, noticing his bottle was empty.

“I can get it,” he offered, but she stood up and grabbed the empty bottle from him.

“Sam? Kevin? You guys want another?” she offered.

They both declined, Kevin was a lightweight and Sam still was still nursing the second half of his first one. Jessica turned and made her way back to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and grabbed the last of the six pack of Margiekugels. Before heading back she also grabbed what was left of the apple pie she made earlier that week. It needed to be finished before it went bad, and she was sure Dean could take care of it tonight.

When she walked back into the library, her hands full, the boys were in the middle of a discussion; something about Dean crossing something off his bucket list.

“What’d you cross off your bucket list?” she asked with a smile as she set the beer and pie down on the table. Sam and Dean got suspiciously quiet, but Kevin chimed in.

“Dean had sex with a porn star.”

Her smile faltered. It was like a punch to the gut. Jessica knew she had no right, but the realization that Dean had had yet another one night stand, with a porn start no less, stung like a thousand wasps inside her chest. It wasn’t like he was hers, but they had been getting along so well lately that she allowed herself to believe for minute that maybe he would be one day. She was deluding herself. He would never see her like that.

“Oh,” she managed to squeak out, clearing her throat and forcing a smile, “Good for you, I guess. I’m sure it was a dream come true.” Dean couldn’t look her in the eye and Sam was giving her a look of sympathy. She just couldn’t be in the room anymore. “Well, I’m tired guys. I’ve been working all day, I could use some sleep.”

"Are you sure?” Dean asked, “You don’t want to have another beer with us first?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I think I’m just gonna go to bed. Goodnight guys.”

“Goodnight,” they all said in turn, awkwardly.

*****

The next morning, Jessica woke up early. She rolled over and looked at the clock on her bedside table and realized it wasn’t even daybreak yet. Her body was well rested, and her mind alert, but if she got up this early she’d be tired again by the afternoon. Instead she rolled back over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her heart still ached from the news of Dean’s latest conquest, and she didn’t know how she would face him later. It was clearly obvious by the way he reacted when Kevin spilled the beans that he knew she had feelings for him. His awkwardness in handling it told her as much, and he probably felt bad about it, Hell, he always felt bad about everything, but he couldn’t tell her that he knew. Then he would have to tell her that he doesn’t feel the same. Jess knew she couldn’t force him to love her, and she wouldn’t want to, but she loved him more than anything, and it was bearable before when she thought there might be a chance. Now, she knew there wasn’t. He just wasn’t into her that way. She couldn’t compare to a porn star. 

She lay awake all morning until her alarm went off at seven o’clock. With a sigh, she got up, showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen to start breakfast as usual. She got the home fries cooking and started on the eggs before Dean walked into the room in his bathrobe.

“Morning,” he announced as he entered. He stopped and looked at her as she continued to cook, not turning to look at him when she responded. He wasn’t stupid. He knew she was feeling bad about what happened the night before. How could he tell her that it hadn’t meant anything to him? He had just been caught up in a fantasy that had come to life, and that was all. The only reason he had even gone back to Suzy’s in the first place was because he had gotten himself so worked up over the daydream he had about Jessica during his confession, that he needed a release, and he knew he could never go there with Jess. If he did, he would get attached and he couldn’t afford that. His lifestyle didn’t exactly leave room for relationships, and Jessica was a relationship kind of girl. 

Dean made small talk to circumvent the awkwardness that was starting to settle over the room. “You want me to make the coffee?” he asked, trying to be helpful.

“Sure,” she replied, but she still didn’t look at him. 

This was going to be a long day.

The quiet between them was just starting to become unbearable when Sam finally joined them. Not long after, Kevin showed up and the tension died off. They all sat together pleasantly and had breakfast, chatting about the progress, or lack-there-of, that Kevin was making with the Angel Tablet and about how Abaddon was still out there and what they could possibly do about it. Dean also had the added stress of his brother’s condition, and amidst it all Jessica still couldn’t look him in the eye. She was smiling and talking away with them, but still actively avoiding him. He was going to have to do something to make it up to her later.

After cleaning up breakfast, Jessica disappeared into her room. The meal had been excruciating for her. She knew that Dean knew something was up, and thankfully he didn’t say anything or ask her what was wrong. There was no way she would have been able to articulate what she was feeling. It wasn’t like she could admit her feelings to him and how terrible she felt that she was avoiding him at all costs. She just couldn’t face him today. Not yet. First she had to mourn the realization that her love would always be unrequited with Dean, then she’d be able to go back to being friends with him. She should count herself lucky that she at least had that.

Jessica spent a few hours reading, trying to get her mind off of Dean, but then there was a knock on her door. It opened slightly, and Dean’s deep, rich voice floated through. “Jess, you decent?”

Her heart stopped. “Yeah, what’s up?” She tried her best to sound normal.

Dean pushed the door open further and walked inside. Jessica sat up on the bed, put her book down, and finally looked at him. 

“I was thinking about taking Dorothy’s bike out for a spin, you wanna come with me?” Dean asked. 

“On the motorcycle?” Jessica asked, for clarification.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled, “I figured out what was wrong with your car, so I figured we can stop and get the part we need to finish it up while we’re out. Whatta ya think?”

She wasn’t really sure what she thought. On one hand, she was still feeling a bit down about what had transpired, but on the other hand, Dean never invited her to go out with him and she was always itching to get out of the bunker. Silently reminding herself that this was a purely platonic outing, and that his invitation should in no way get her hopes up again, she nodded and grabbed her jacket off the chair by the desk. “Okay, I could use some fresh air.”

The two of them walked to the garage, mostly in awkward silence, but when they arrived it was easier to make small talk as Dean set about finding her an extra helmet to wear. There was one way back in the recesses of the small corner office, but it was way too big for her. So Dean let her have Dorothy’s old one and kept the bigger one for himself. He swung his leg over the bike and turned the key in the ignition, revving the engine once or twice to make sure it was still running well. “You ready?” he asked Jessica over the roar of the engine. When she nodded, he held out his hand to help her steady herself as she had to practically climb the thing to get herself seated behind him, her short little legs giving her trouble. “Make sure you hold on tight, alright?”

Jessica wrapped her arms around his waist tentatively.

“Tighter!” he directed, and he felt her squeeze into him. He couldn’t help but smile at the feeling. It made him think about the night when they shared the bed in the hotel; how her arm draped over him and her body warmed him. That thought went astray quickly and he was imagining her underneath him again.

Dean shook off the thought and kicked up the kickstand. “Here we go,” he said and then pulled the clutch and shifted to first gear. He released the clutch and twisted the throttle and the bike started moving forward slowly and smoothly until they hit the underground tunnel that led out of the bunker. As the bike picked up speed, Jessica hugged Dean tighter and they were out into the open air and sunlight maneuvering through the streets of downtown Lebanon. When they hit the edge of town, they stopped at the last stoplight they would see for a long while. Dean looked back over his shoulder.

“You ready to give it some gas?”

Jessica smiled at him. “Let’s do it,” she said, earning a chuckle from her riding partner.

The light turned green and Dean let loose, speeding down the flat back road out of town. They headed north toward Grand Island, Nebraska where Dean had tracked down the parts he was looking for at a junkyard that specialized in vintage autos. It was a leisurely, hour and a half ride, and Dean really let the lead out when he hit US-281, only passing an occasional car on their way.

As they pulled into the small junkyard, Dean eased off the throttle and brought the motorcycle to a smooth stop. After turning off the engine, he reached around to help Jessica off then climbed off himself. They both took their helmets off and placed them in the satchel that was attached to the back of the bike. Dean looked down at Jess and chuckled, smoothing his hand through her hair. “Having a bad hair day?” he teased.

Jess quickly reached up to feel for what he was talking about, patting it down where it had crooked up. “Did I fix it?” she asked self-consciously.

“Oh c’mon, you’re not gonna let a little helmet hair get in your way are you?”

She plastered her hair down with her hands again to make sure it looked alright.

Dean couldn’t help but smile at her, but they were quickly interrupted by the proprietor of the junkyard.

“Can I help you folks?” The man was dressed in coveralls and smudged with dirt and grease.

“Uh, yeah, I called a few hours ago about the flex mounts for the Twin Cam,” Dean responded.

“Oh, right, I got ‘em in the office for ya. Follow me,” the junkman directed.

It only took them a few minutes to settle the transaction. Dean handed the man a wad of cash and tucked the parts into his jacket pocket. On the way back to the bike, Dean complained about his stomach growling. “You wanna stop, get some food on the way back?” he asked Jessica. She agreed, and they both climbed back onto the bike and headed South, through the endless landscape of farmland, back towards the bunker.

The next big city that US-281 ran through was Hastings, Nebraska. Dean and Sam had been there several times before, most recently when they tried to save Alfie from Crowley’s clutches. There was an old-school tavern right in the heart of the city called Murphey’s Wagon Wheel that had an amazing chili burger, so Dean slowed down when they reached the corner and pulled the bike into an empty parking spot along North Lincoln Avenue. Tucking their helmets back into the satchel, Dean led the way to the entrance and pulled the door open wide. “Ladies first,” he gestured with his hand, and he followed Jessica in.

It was a typical looking bar and grille: wood paneling, neon beer signs over the bar, and a jukebox from the 1980’s playing country tunes in the back. The hostess was a pretty young blonde, who smiled when she looked up at Dean. “How many?” She asked as her eyes sparkled up at the handsome man before her. 

_How many?_ Jessica wanted to slap that smirk off her face. _Like you don’t see me standing here next to him?_

“Two,” Dean replied placing a hand on the small of Jessica’s back.

The hostess’s smiled faded slightly, before she grabbed a couple of menus and sat them at a booth next to the pool table. “Let me know if you need, _anything_ ,” she continued to shamelessly flirt, completely ignoring the fact that Jessica was sitting directly across from Dean.

“Wow!” Jessica exclaimed under her breath.

The corner of Dean’s mouth turned up at her, before hiding his amusement behind his menu. He didn’t hold it there long before folding it and slapping it back down on the table in front of him. “Well, I know what I want!” he exclaimed.

“I’m sure you do,” Jessica once again mumbled under her breath, not looking up from her menu. She didn’t think that Dean could hear her, but he did.

“Hey,” he said, pulling the menu down from in front of her face, “trust me?”

“What?” Jessica asked confused right before the waitress rolled up to the table. _Great! Another attractive woman to fall all over Dean!_

“Two beers and two chili burgers please,” Dean ordered for them, “Oh and double the onions on mine.” He smiled handing the menus to the waitress.

It took the waitress a few seconds too long to walk away.

Dean leaned back in the booth, draping his arm along the backrest and looked at Jessica intently. Her eyes fluttered up to his momentarily and then fell down to examine the table instead. She had no idea how cute she was when she was pouting. “Wanna play a game while we’re waiting?” he cocked his head toward the pool table.

She followed his gaze. “I’m not really that good,” she responded, “It’ll probably be a one-sided game.”

“I’ll teach you,” Dean offered, standing up next to their table. “C’mon, you’ll be hustling pool like a pro before you know it.” He waited for her to get up, but she just looked up at him timidly. “C’mon,” he urged again, with faux annoyance.

Jessica reluctantly stood up and joined him at the pool table. Dean handed her a cue and set about racking the balls. She watched him as he deftly wrangled them neatly into the wooden triangle, moving the stripes and solids about into a certain pattern, which she knew nothing about. She really didn’t play pool all that often, so she couldn’t tell you why they had to be that way.

“You wanna break?” Dean asked.

Jessica shook her head. The last time she tried that she rolled the cue across the top of the cue ball and it barely tapped the front of the rack.

Dean smirked and walked around to the other end of the table. “All right, I got it.” Leaning forward over the table, he lined up his shot and pulled back on the stick. When he released, the cue smacked into the rest of the balls, exploding them across the soft expanse of green felt. “Solids,” Dean called, after the four and seven ball rolled into separate pockets. He sank two more before the cue ball rolled behind a stripe, blocking any good shots he might have had. Dean shot around it, but it only managed to bounce off the side rail and come to a stop. “Ahhh,” he griped, “you’re up!”

Jessica looked at him, her words dripping sarcasm, “Yeah, not intimidating at all!”

Dean chuckled. “You can do it,” he encouraged, “just line up your shot and take your time.”

With a sigh, Jess looked over the table. She was stripes, so she looked for one that would be relatively easy to hit. Getting it into a pocket was going to be another thing all-together. The twelve-ball wasn’t more than maybe a foot or two away from the cue ball, and it was a pretty straight shot without obstructions. She leaned over and had to stretch a bit to reach. Counting silently to three she pulled back on the cue stick and then shoved it forward. It hit the cue ball and sent it wide, entirely missing the twelve-ball. “Dammit!” she exclaimed, “I told you I suck!”

“No you don’t,” Dean soothed, “Here, try it again.” He moved the cue ball back to the place it was before and stood behind her. “Line up your shot.”

Jessica leaned forward, splaying her fingers across the felt and sliding the cue along the top of her thumb. She was just about to pull back when she felt Dean’s hand fall on her hip. She about lost her footing and almost fell to the floor.

“Steady,” he advised, “try holding it like this instead.”

His body was pressed up against hers now, contouring himself against her back, his hand warm on top of hers at the back of the cue. He molded her fingers into a small O-shape, slipping the stick through her middle and index finger and resting it on the bridge of her thumb. “You’ll get more control this way,” he said, his breath falling hot against her ear.

Jessica’s body went numb with static. The sound of her breath was filling up her ears, blocking out all the other sounds around her until Dean’s deep baritone broke through.

“Pull back slowly,” he coached, his hand helping to steady hers, “now shoot.” Together they jammed the cue into the white cue ball and sent the twelve-ball rolling into the side pocket. “See?” Dean stood back upright, taking all his body heat with him.

“Did that really just go in?” Jessica asked in shock. She turned around and gave him a big smile. “Thanks, Dean.”

He smiled back down at her.

They stood there for a moment, just staring.

Jessica swallowed the lump that began to form in her throat, and her smile faltered as Dean’s gaze became more intense. Her heartrate picked up, and for a minute she thought he might lean down to kiss her. Instead, he was distracted by the waitress coming back with their burgers. The brief moment that she allowed herself to think…maybe?…was gone. She should have known better.

“Our food’s here,” he said, taking their pool cues and laying them across the table before leading her back to their booth.

They sat and ate their chili burgers and fries and drank their beers in relative silence. Dean was devouring his burger, chili spilling from his lips to fall back on his plate. Jessica, on the other hand was trying to be as dainty and lady-like as possible, frustrated by the way the bun was practically dissolving under the weight of all that grease and sauce. While Dean had nearly finished his burger, she had still only had a couple of small bites. 

“Do you not like it?” Dean asked, his mouth half-full.

“It’s not that,” Jess replied, “I just can’t figure out how to eat it without wearing it.”

Dean popped the last bite of his into his mouth and chewed. “Can’t worry about that, just gotta go for it!” His hands were covered in chili sauce. “See?” he held his hands up to show her the mess before he wiped them off on his napkin.

“Clearly, you have the skill required to tackle a sandwich this complicated,” Jessica teased him.

His lips pulled a swig of beer from his bottle. “Damn right,” he replied.

When the waitress brought the check, Dean took his wallet out of his back pocket and threw enough cash down to cover the bill and the tip. Their conversation had dwindled again, and the awkward silence continued as they made their way back outside to the bike. They put their helmets back on, and headed back out on the highway where the silence was easier because they couldn’t really hear anything at speed anyway, but Jessica found herself clutching Dean’s waist a little tighter, and Dean wore a smile on his face the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What did you think of their fist date? I couldn't help falling a little bit in love with Dean here. He can be so adorable at times. Let me know what you think of the story so far in the comments! Any feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading so far, there is a lot more to come!


	16. "Burning Down The House"

Things around the bunker were never dull. The boys had left late the night before to follow up on another angel related tangle in Caribou, Wyoming and Kevin was once again running himself ragged trying to decode the Angel Tablet. The sooner they could find a way to get the angels back home, the better. The longer they stayed here on Earth, the more violence they caused. 

Jessica made her rounds, cleaning, cooking, tending to Crowley in the dungeon, and then after checking in on Kevin, she decided to head to the gun range and practice firing. It had been on her to-do list for a few weeks now, she just hadn’t really had the time or the energy to pick up the hobby. She didn’t want to waste all the boy’s ammo either, but she figured whatever she used today she could just head into town to pick up some more before they came back. Dean had fixed her car after they had gotten back from their day trip to Nebraska, so she could finally zip into town whenever she needed without it being a major production, or pain in her ass for that matter.

Besides, she wasn’t just firing for fun. She legitimately wanted, no _needed,_ to learn how to take care of herself. It wasn’t like she was in harm’s way very often – Dean made sure of that – but it wasn’t like she hadn’t gotten herself into some scary situations before either. At some point she wanted one of the guys to train her in hand-to-hand combat too, but for now she could at least do this on her own. She wasn’t a hunter, but she ran with the best of the best, and she should be able to help if they got in a jam, or at the very least defend herself.

Jessica picked up a Glock 9mm off the rack of handguns at the back of the range. She released the magazine, just as she had seen on the YouTube video she had watched earlier that morning, and began loading the bullets into the chamber. When it was full, she slid the magazine back into the pistol and pulled back on the slide to load the first bullet. Carefully, she walked over to the third stall and steadied the gun, with both hands, on the target that was about five yards away from her. Using the sights, Jess aimed for the chest on the paper target and took a deep breath. Her finger pressed the trigger slowly and POP…the gun fired, a little hole smoked through the paper around where the gut would be. _Not bad_ she thought, but it wasn’t where she was initially aiming. She tried again, and by the time she emptied the magazine she managed to lodge several right around the heart. If she was going to learn how to shoot in a world of monsters and demons, she had to shoot to kill. 

Feeling accomplished, she put the pistol back and headed into the library to check on Kevin. He wasn’t there, but Sam and Dean had returned and were sitting at the table in the War Room. They were looking at obituaries for the bikers that had been slaughtered in Wyoming. “Hey, guys! When did you get back?” Jessica asked as she stepped down into the room behind them.

Dean swiveled in his chair to face her. “A few minutes ago,” he stated, “I went looking for you but I couldn’t find you. Where have you been?”

Telling Sam and Dean that she had just been in the gun range playing with the guns was probably not going to go over well. She hedged the truth a bit. “Um, practicing,” was all she was going to give them.

“Practicing what? You’re dance routine?” Dean puzzled, snarkily, obviously proud of his joke.

“No,” she stated matter-of-factly before taking a seat on the other side of Sam. Better to put another body between her and Dean for this one. “I was shooting in the gun range.”

Sam stopped what he was doing and joined Dean in staring at her. 

“You were doing what now?” Dean asked, his tone a bit reproachful.

Tread lightly, Jessica. “I was bored and I’ve been thinking I should learn how to defend myself if something happens and you guys aren’t around, so I watched a YouTube video and…”

“You watched a YouTube video?” Dean interrupted her, “Oh, well, if you watched a YouTube video then you’re all set!”

Jessica tightened her lips into an apologetic smile. “I was careful and I just shot one magazine. I promise I’ll replace the ammo. Hey, I did pretty well too!” she announced excited, “I hit the target every time and figured out how to set my sights so I ended up shooting pretty accurately!”

Dean closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, counting to ten to avoid blowing up at her. What was she thinking? She didn’t have any experience with a gun! If something had happened to her… “You could have hurt yourself!” he chided, “Guns aren’t toys, Jessica!”

“I know that, Dean! I just want to know what I’m doing if I need to use one someday.”

Sam finally added his two cents to the conversation. “She’s not wrong, Dean. She _should_ probably know how to use one. I mean with what we do, if she’s gonna be around us she should at least know how to defend herself.”

How was Dean supposed to argue with that logic? It would be good for her to learn, but she shouldn’t be doing it all on her own. “Fine,” he conceded, “but from now on, one of us has to be there with you! No more shooting practice on your own!”

Jessica turned up a smile at him. “Fine. Term’s accepted.”

Dean eyed her, giving her his “this is serious” look. She only smiled wider at him, happy to have won that round.

“Alright,” Sam brought the focus back to his research, “get this, this is weird. Look, these are all the victims, right? They were all baptized together.”

Dean finally broke his gaze away from Jessica and looked at the computer screen. “Baptized?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah, they were a born-again biker gang,” Sam continued.

“Well that is not something you hear everyday,” Dean said in disbelief.

“No, it’s not,” Sam concluded.

Dean noticed something in the picture; a symbol on the victim’s jacket. He pointed at the screen. “Wait, make that bigger.”

Sam zoomed in on the image. It was a patch that said “Boyle’s Boys”. Seemed like Buddy Boyle, the internet preacher who had been helping the angels recruit human vessels, was at it again. This time, though, the vessels were getting slaughtered along with the angels that had possessed them in what seemed like all-out war. The angels were getting more and more restless with every waking moment they spent on Earth. After determining there was nothing they could do now but wait to hear back from Castiel, or wait for another attack to pop up and point them in the right direction, they abandoned their research for the moment. 

“Are you guys getting hungry for lunch?” Jess asked, getting up from her seat.

Dean stretched and stood too, “Yeah, I could eat.”

“You could always eat,” Sam quipped.

“What can I say,” Dean sassed, “I’m a growing boy.”

Jessica laughed, “You are a man-child, I’ll give you that! C’mon, help me round some stuff up.” She tugged on Dean’s sleeve and walked out into the hall towards the kitchen.

“Man-child?” Dean muttered, “What the hell does that mean?” He followed her out of the room.

As soon as they were gone, Sam’s eyes flashed blue and Ezekiel took over. He looked around the room to make sure no one was still around, and then walked up the steps and left the bunker without a word.

*****

The next morning, Jessica was jolted awake by her alarm clock blasting a local classic rock station at 6:00 AM. She bolted upright in bed and located the offending sound, slapping the snooze button and turning the volume dial down all the way. “Geez,” she muttered, trying to catch her breath and curling back up in the bed. She knew she hadn’t set her alarm last night, so what the Hell was that about?

“Up and at ‘em, sweetheart,” Dean’s booming voice came from the darkened corner of the room before he switched on the desk lamp.

“What the Hell, Dean!” she sat up again, startled at the intrusion. “What are you doing?”

He took a step toward her with a cheeky grin on his face. “Hey, you said you wanted to train! Let’s train!”

“Uggggh,” she groaned, falling back onto her pillow and pulling the covers up over her head, muffling the rest of her protest, “It’s six in the morning! Leave me alone!”

The blankets were ripped away from her leaving her lying there in just her tank top and underwear. “Dean!”

He stared for a minute before it registered that she wasn’t wearing the little pajama bottoms she normally wore around the bunker, and quickly turned away. He couldn’t help but grin to himself though. “Get dressed, soldier! Meet me in the shooting range. Chop, chop!” 

Dean walked out, leaving her to get ready.

With a sigh, Jessica huffed out loud, “I’m gonna kill him.” But she got out of bed and pulled on some leggings, shoved her feet in a pair of slippers, and ran a brush through her hair before shuffling to the range. When she entered, Dean was already popping off some rounds, and she held her hands over her ears at the echo. It was too damned early for this shit!

“There she is,” he announced as he turned around, “Get over here let’s see what you can do.” He noticed her choice of footwear. “Nice slippers,” he gibed.

Jessica dragged her feet over to him and took the gun from his hand. “If I shoot you, can I go back to bed?” she snarked.

“Just shoot the target. You said you wanted to learn, I’m gonna teach you,” he was enjoying her sassy attitude this morning. 

“I can’t even see the target, my eyes are so bleary,” she mumbled under her breath but she took aim the best she could and pulled back the trigger, hitting the target in the throat.

Dean winced, “Ouch, remind me not to piss you off. That was good, try it again, aim for the chest this time.”

She aimed, and the shot went wide, missing the target entirely. “Dean, it’s too early for this. I’m not focused.”

“Then focus,” Dean commanded, “You think the bad guy’s gonna care what time it is? You need to be ready at a moment’s notice.”

Jessica rolled her eyes at him, but turned to face the target again. She aimed and fired twice in rapid succession, leaving two tiny little holes in the breast plate.

“That’s better,” Dean praised her, “You aren’t that bad at this!” He took the gun from her hand and unloaded the clip. “Go put some shoes on and meet me in the garage. I’ll take you to breakfast. You know, since I disturbed your slumber this early, it’s the least I can do.”

She closed her eyes and let out a tired hum. “I just want to go back to sleep.”

“C’mon,” Dean pleaded, “you’ll be fine.”

“You owe me, Winchester,” Jess warned but got ready anyway.

They went to a little diner downtown, and before they left they ordered some breakfast burritos to go for Sam and Kevin. By the time they got back to the bunker everyone else was up. Sam was busy looking for any news that might have hit the wire overnight, and Kevin was back at his translating.

“Where were you two?” Sam asked as Jess and Dean walked down the stairs.

“Breakfast run,” Dean announced, pulling a burrito out of the bag and tossing it to his brother. 

Jessica snatched the bag out of Dean’s hand and handed it to Kevin. She wasn’t really mad at Dean anymore, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

Sam turned to his brother with a look of amusement on his face. He had noticed that Dean and Jess had been spending more time together than usual and wondered if they had finally gotten their shit together and admitted how they felt about one another. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked.

“What?” Dean deflected, “Shut up.”

_I guess that’s a negative_ Sam thought. Apparently his brother _hadn’t_ gotten his shit together after all.

Later that afternoon, Jessica decided to take a nap – after much razzing from Dean – and Sam said he was going for a walk to clear his head and do some thinking about the angel situation. He said the exercise would help him focus. Dean also gave Sam hard time before letting him go. Now it was just him and Kevin, so they holed up in the library, and Dean did some more research online while Kevin was busy translating again. A few hours, and a few drinks later, Dean finally hit something.

While he was reading the news article, Kevin broke the focused silence in the room.

“Dean, there may be nothing in here,” he announced, frustrated by the tablet. “Crowley said the spell that cast down the angels was irreversible.”

Glancing up from his computer, Dean replied, “Yeah, well, screw Crowley. Why would you think that anything he says is true?”

Kevin looked again at the Angel Tablet. “This part is nearly indecipherable. Almost like when Metatron wrote it down he wanted to keep the words hidden…from...prophets.”

Just as Dean looked up at Kevin again, Sam returned from his walk. Dean abandoned his response and greeted his brother instead. “Hey, check this out. Another angel attack.”

“What? Where?” Sam replied with a slight urgency, grabbing the laptop from his brother to look.

“Utah,” Dean responded, “A, uh, college bible study group and their guest speaker. Some top shelf church lady. Insides scorched out, kids eyes were missing, but not the church lady’s.”

“So, she was an angel too?” Sam put two and two together.

Dean agreed, “Sounds like, uh, and she sang soprano for the Melody Ministry Glee Club.”

Sam shook his head in confusion. “Okay?”

“The club goes to its gigs on a bus, so when I checked with the, uh, Wyoming cops they said that their witness saw the same bus leaving the biker bar not long before the bodies were found.”

“So, church lady angel was at both killings?”

Dean just gestured as if to say he came to the same conclusion. “I’m guessing that she and whoever she’s running with killed Bartholomew’s bikers at the bar, and then Bart’s boys hit her back…”

“…when she was recruiting those students to be vessels,” Sam grimly finished the thought.

Dean nodded solemly.

Sam sighed heavily, “Wow! A bunch of kids!” Things were getting seriously dangerous out there.

“Kevin?” Dean drew the prophet’s attention, “Clock’s ticking.”

The three of them sat there feeling the weight of what was ahead of them.

*****

“No, no, no, no, no!” Jessica yelled as she slapped the snooze button on her alarm clock. 

Dean pulled the covers off of her once again, a little disappointed she had a pair of flannel shorts on this time. “Rise and shine, sweetheart!”

The way she rolled violently onto her back punctuated her frustration. “Why won’t you let me sleep?” Jess half questioned, half pleaded. 

“Hey, if you don’t want to train, that’s fine with me,” Dean put his hands up in surrender.

That bastard! He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to get her to change her mind about learning how to fight. She had convinced him yesterday that she was capable of handling a gun enough to protect herself, so she had mentioned she should also learn some close quarters combat. At first he flat out refused, but she made a pretty good case to Sam about how it would come in handy and he took her side, much to Dean’s dismay. Now he was going to try and annoy her out of it. Well, she wasn’t going to let him win.

“Nope,” Jessica said, projecting herself upright and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, “you’re right, let’s train!” She got up and pulled open her dresser drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats and some socks to get changed. “You wanna give me some privacy to get ready?” she asked.

Dean frowned, “Are you sure? I mean if you want to go back to sleep…”

“I’m sure! Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready!”

With a roll of his eyes, Dean shrugged and headed out the door. “Meet me in the gym!” he called out as he left.

When Jessica finally made her way there, Dean was waiting with a pair of boxing gloves. “Here,” he said, “These are probably gonna be a little big on you, but it’s better than nothing. Put ‘em on.” He tossed them her way, and she fumbled it, managing to catch one but letting the other hit the floor.

“Nice reflexes,” Dean teased. He really didn’t want to teach her how to do this. Not that he was begrudging the quality time they would log, _that_ he didn’t mind so much, but he didn’t want her fighting. He knew it was for self-defense, but she wouldn’t have to defend herself if he and Sam did their job of keeping her out of the fray. He watched her struggle to get the gloves on and quirked his mouth up at the sight.

She glared at him, finally managing to wrangle the oversized gloves onto both hands. “Okay, so do I get to hit you now?” she asked.

“Let’s just work the bag for a little while before you go all Buffy on me, okay?” Dean sassed back at her. He stepped behind the bag and held onto it to keep it from swinging back at her when she hit it. The bad guys are more solid than a punching bag hanging from a chain, so she needed to know what it really felt like hitting something stationary. “Alright, you’re a righty, so put your left foot forward a little, right foot behind you,” Dean coached.

Jessica took a deep breath and followed his directions.

“Good! Now both hands up. Keep your right glove down by your chin, left glove up to protect your face.”

She got into position in front of the bag. “Like this?” she asked, all snark and sass dropped for now. She was going to take this seriously.

“Just like that,” Dean praised, “Okay, now extend your left arm out slowly to just touch the bag. Don’t punch too hard yet, just get a feel for the distance between you and the bag.”

Jessica jabbed her hardest, slamming the glove into the bag and catching Dean off guard.

“Whoa there, Cassius Clay! I said slowly. Do you want me to teach you or not?” Dean asserted.

“Sorry,” Jessica replied with a sly smile.

Dean glowered at her, trying with all his might not to smile back. “Wipe that grin off your face and do what I tell you. C’mon, extend your arm _slowly_ , that’s it. Now again, give it some go, but don’t over-extend.” He braced himself a bit more now as she struck, holding the bag steady.

They practiced her jab, and then Dean instructed her on how to throw a right cross. Every now and again, he stopped her to correct her posture or the position of her arm. Her throws were a little low, leaving her face wide open for attack, but soon she was getting a handle on the technique. By the end of the hour, Dean had her working some combos on the bag, and he found himself quite impressed. For a little thing like herself, she could pack a punch! Jessica seemed to have a way of exceeding all his expectations.

When they were done training, he tossed her a bottle of water. “Nice work, kiddo,” he smiled, knowing damn well she hated when he called her that, “now hit the showers. You stink!”

“You’re lucky I don’t have my boxing gloves on still,” she warned before taking a sip of her water. 

Dean chuckled, “Oh, what, now you think you can beat me or something? After one training session?”

“Wanna find out?” she challenged, knowing full well Dean would never let her fight him. She was totally bluffing.

He totally called it! “Alright, put your gloves back on, let’s see what you can do.”

Jessica froze. “What?” she asked, surprised, “You’re not serious?”

“You think you’re an expert now, let’s see it!” Dean was already putting on a pair of gloves. “C’mon over to the mats over here, so when I knock you on your ass it won’t hurt as bad.”

A lump formed in her throat. Was he serious? He’s serious! That was not the response she was expecting.

Dean smiled, “Well c’mon! You’re not scared are you?” He knew how to push her buttons. 

With her jaw set into a determined grimace, Jessica put the gloves back on and anxiously made her way over to the mat. 

“Get in position,” Dean commanded, “Remember to keep your gloves up to protect your face.”

Jessica’s resolve slowly faltered. She had seen Dean throw a punch before, and knew he could knock her out in one shot. “Are you really gonna hit me?”

Dean stared her down. “You think the bad guys are gonna go easy on you?”

“But, you’re not a bad guy,” Jessica hedged.

His glove jabbed towards her face and she threw her hands up just in time. It connected with just a little bit of force, but not enough to jar her. “Let’s go Ronda Rousey! Hit me!”

Jessica tentatively threw a left jab, but Dean blocked it expertly. 

“Is that all you got?” he teased her.

She frowned at him. “You want me to really hit you?”

"YES! Hit me, c’mon!”

With all her might she jabbed again and followed it up with a cross, like he taught her, the gloves landing forcefully on his own. He played defense as she swung at him, moving his position and making her work for it. Taunting her with laughter every now and again, he could see he was making her angry. Good! She needed the anger if she was going to fight.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” she asked between jabs.

Dean shifted his weight to avoid her punches. “I thought you were scared for me to hit you?”

“Well, then how am I supposed to learn?” Jess gritted through her teeth, throwing another cross. She was getting into it now. Her fear was slowly subsiding. But Dean just kept bobbing and weaving and blocking her hits, and she was starting to get frustrated with him. Her attacks came more rapidly now, practicing the combos he’d taught her and slamming her fists into his gloves. “Stop going easy on me!”

Blocking another of her punches, Dean leaned away from her and smiled. “Okay, you asked for it!” He waited for her to throw a cross, and ducked under it charging forward and ramming into her. She squealed in surprise as he threaded his arm under hers and hooked his foot around her right ankle, toppling her down to the mat, his bodyweight pinning her there.

“What the Hell was that?” she exclaimed after catching her breath.

Dean only held her down harder. “That’s called a takedown, honey! And don’t forget, you asked for it.” He smirked at her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Dean could feel her trying to wrangle herself free, but he had her at his mercy.

Jessica groaned in frustration. 

“You had enough?” Dean asked, pressing her down just a little more, adding pressure, but not enough to hurt her.

“Yes, Dean, c’mon! Get off me!” He finally released her and stood, holding out a hand to help her up, but she refused his help and got up herself. Her face was flushed and the sweat was dripping down the back of her neck. 

Taking off his gloves and tossing them aside, Dean stood with his hands on his hips and grinned down at her, amused. She was pouting. “Awe, look how adorable you are when you get all grouchy!”

“Shut up, Winchester!” she scowled, “Don’t think this is over. We’re training again tomorrow!” Jessica threw her gloves aside – Dean can pick them up for all she cared – and turned her back on him to stomp out of the gym. Her pride was wounded, and she knew he was doing it on purpose. She’d be damned if she let him bully her out of training.

“Looking forward to it sweetheart!” he called after her. She wasn’t giving up, he’d give her that! Besides, she was cute when she was angry.

*****

Dean walked through the bunker looking for his brother. He wanted to see if there was any more news on the angel front, but he couldn’t find him anywhere. There had been no response to his text messages either. He turned the corner and headed for the kitchen, maybe his brother was grabbing a bite, but when he rounded the threshold Kevin was the only one in there. “Hey, you seen Sam?”

Kevin responded between a bite of his PB&J, “He went out.”

“Where?” Dean asked, surprised.

The prophet paused and pondered, “I don’t know. You noticed he’s been doing that a lot?”

Dean hadn’t really noticed, but responded with a “yeah” anyway. His phone rang in his hand, momentarily distracting him from the conversation, so Kevin continued on his way back to the library with his lunch. 

It was Cas on the other end of the line. He seemed to be in a hurry, and had apparently just gotten himself out of a pretty bad jam. Malachi was the angel who was leading the resistance against Bartholomew - finally a break in the case - but he had trapped Castiel and held him hostage. Luckily Cas escaped, and somehow got his mojo back, but there was even more pressing news that was of more importance to Dean. 

“Didn’t you say Sam was healed by an angel named Ezekiel?” Cas asked.

Dean shook his head in confusion at the change of subjects. “Um, yeah, why?”

“Ezekiel is dead.”

Castiel’s words felt as if they were a bomb that just exploded at Dean’s feet. “What?” Dean asked in horror. Maybe he didn’t hear that right?

“He died when the angels fell,” Castiel continued to destroy Dean’s world.

There wasn’t any time for pleasantries. This was an emergency. Dean hung up the line and headed straight for the library in a panic, startling Kevin out of his translation daze by demanding solutions. “I need a spell, ASAP!” he urged, slamming his hands down on the table to get the kid’s attention.

Kevin, growing tired of the demands, responded with an exhausted sigh, “Everyone always needs a spell, and it’s always ASAP.”

“Alright, listen to me,” Dean continued, not giving a rat’s ass if Kevin was frustrated or not, “an angel can’t be expelled by another human, okay? Only by the host, right? But what if, there was a way to power down the angel, so that it wasn’t in charge for a few seconds?”

“What?” Kevin wasn’t following.

Dean huffed, trying to get the urgency across without having to tell Kevin why he was so anxious. “For instance if, hypothetically, I wanted to speak with the vessel but not have the squatter listen in?”

“Why?” Kevin asked, still clearly confused.

“Why?” Dean responded incredulously, “Kevin, we’ve got tons of possessed humans out there! You with me? And when the angels kill each other off, the humans are taking it in the teeth! So, what if I wanted to clue the human in so that he…or she, could spit the angel out? That would be a good thing, right?”

There was something else going on here, but Kevin was too tired to figure it out. “Uh…yeah?”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, “so hit the tablet, let’s go.” He turned to walk away but was stopped when Kevin complained.

“Now?”

“Yesterday, Cinderella!” Dean barked with a stern look of warning before heading off to find Jessica. He needed to warn her about Sam.

When he found her, she was in the garage, cleaning the windshield of her car. “Good timing! Can you grab the bags out of the back seat and put that stuff up in the kitchen for me? I’m trying to get these stupid bugs off my windshield. I swear they are some supernaturally gooey things!” She scrubbed at a particularly large splatter.

“We have a problem,” Dean announced, making Jess stop what she was doing.

“What’s going on?”

“Cas called,” Dean went on, “and Ezekiel, the angel inside Sam? He’s dead.”

Jessica scrunched up her face, “What are you talking about? How is he dead, we just saw him heal Charlie a few weeks ago? He seemed pretty alive to me!”

Dean stepped closer and put a firm hand on her shoulder to get her to focus. “Listen to what I’m saying. Ezekiel, is not Ezekiel! There is some other angel posing as Ezekiel inside my brother!”

“Yeah, that sounds bad,” Jessica finally caught on, “So who is it? Inside Sam then?”

“I don’t have time to care about that right now,” Dean said, “we have to get whoever it is out of Sam, now!” He stepped away from her and stopped to grab the grocery bags out of the backseat of her car. “Wash your car later. I need you to help Kevin figure out how to expel the son of a bitch!”

Jessica watched Dean stomp away with the bags. His tension was palpable in the air around him. This was bad. Quickly, she put the glass cleaner aside and followed him into the bunker. Dean was moving swiftly, so it was a struggle for her much smaller legs to keep up. “Dean, slow down!” Jess called after him, “Where is Sam right now?”

“I don’t know, he’s out somewhere,” Dean mumbled, “I don’t know if Sam’s even in control.”

They turned into the kitchen, and Dean plopped the bags down on the counter. 

Jessica grabbed Dean’s elbow and made him face her. “What do you mean _if_ Sam’s in control? Has Ezekiel been taking over or something?”

“It’s not Ezekiel!” Dean exclaimed.

“Y-you know what I mean!” Jessica was getting equally frustrated now. She loved Sam and Dean, but boy she was getting tired of the secrets around here! Maybe they wouldn’t be in these kinds of predicaments if the brothers would just be honest with each other, with her for that matter! Maybe they could have fixed this before it became an emergency! “Dean, you need to tell me what’s going on!”

Dean leaned up against the counter and squeezed his eyes shut. His shoulders slumped, his body giving up on him rather than relaxing. This was all too much. It was all he could do to keep from drowning in fear and grief. Finally, composing himself enough he looked up at Jessica. The concern on her face only added to his discomfort. She cared about him, about his brother. So did Kevin, and he dragged both of them into this mess. This was all his fault.

“I asked Kevin to find a spell so we can power down Zeke…or whoever he is, and talk to Sam without him knowing. Maybe if I can clue Sam in, he can eject him and we can fix this before it’s too late.”

Jessica frowned, “You said you let him in to heal Sam. Is he better? _Can_ he eject him?”

“I don’t know,” Dean answered honestly. His eyes betrayed his calm demeanor; they were glassy and threatening to spill. He hated being vulnerable in front of anyone like this, especially Jessica. He was supposed to protect her, to make her feel safe. She reached out to him and he flinched away instinctively. The look of disappointment on her face made his heart pang with guilt.

“Let’s figure this out then,” Jessica quickly resolved, wiping away any trace of apprehension from her face. “How urgent is this situation? Does Ze…the angel…know we’re on to him?”

Dean shook his head. “No, I don’t think so, but who knows what he’s capable of? If he isn’t one of the good guys, and we have to assume he isn’t if he had to lie about who he is, I need him out of my brother, now!”

“Alright, then we’ll get him out! I’ll go help Kevin, you go take a break,” Jessica suggested gently.

“A break? I can’t take a break! I…” Dean protested.

Jessica stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to stoop down towards her and effectively quieting him down. “I need you to relax and stop worrying,” she spoke calmly in his ear, “it’s going to be okay.” When she pulled away from him, they stood there uncomfortably for the moment, neither of them sure of what to do next. These rare moments of affection between them seemed to be happening more frequently lately, but neither of them were ready to admit anything out loud, so when these awkward incidences occurred they acted like two fish out of water, trying to breath. Jessica broke the uncomfortable tension first, “Put that stuff up for me, and I’ll go figure this out with Kevin, okay?” She turned to leave but Dean stopped her short.

“Jess? Don’t tell Kevin what’s going on with Sam,” he warned, “the less he knows the better.”

She sighed heavily. More lies? If it weren’t for the look on Dean’s face she would have protested, but he had enough to deal with right now. Against her better judgement, she nodded and left the room.

When she found Kevin in the library, he was squinting at the Angel Tablet and scribbling down a few words here and there. He wasn’t having much luck finding what Dean wanted. So, Jess started pulling out some Men of Letters files on angels. All of their work had been theoretical, not having actually tangled with the winged-Hellraisers like the Winchesters had, but maybe she and Kevin could combine their two sources and glean enough information to give them the advantage. The two of them put their heads together, and within the hour they came up with a plan that might work. It was a simple blood sigil, meaning Dean would have to add to his growing number of scars, but it wasn’t anything new.

They called the eldest Winchester in and explained everything to him, letting him decide how to carry out the plan. If he could somehow get Sam cornered in the store room, then this might actually work, but he wanted both Jessica and Kevin out of harm’s way when it went down. Dean asked Kevin to help him set up the sigil in the store room and told Jess to just go about her business as usual. 

“You don’t want me to help?” Jessica quizzed, although she was used to Dean pushing her aside whenever a dangerous situation arose.

He sent Kevin ahead of him and looked her dead in the eye. “I want you to stay safe. Can you do that for me, please? Go finish detailing your car, or whatever. If you see Sam, get out of there and come find me.”

She knew he was worried and she didn’t want to add to it by fighting him on this, so she just nodded and went back to the garage to scrape the rest of the bugs off her windshield. 

It only took about fifteen minutes to finish her task, and she couldn’t hide in the garage all evening, so she went about her other chores. While she was wiping down the mirrors in the first floor bathroom, she heard the tell-tale squeak of the main entrance around the corner. Jessica poked her head out into the corridor just in time to see Sam entering the bunker, carrying more plastic bags in from the store. If he had asked she could have told him that she already ran that errand earlier. Then a thought occurred to her that maybe he didn’t ask because it wasn’t Sam. Dropping her cleaning supplies, she took off in the other direction, going down the back stairway to avoid running into Sam and to try and catch Dean in the store room to give him the heads up.

The bunker was like a maze, and by the time she made her way down the long convoluted hallways to the store room, both Dean and Kevin were gone. She looked around, and didn’t see where they had put the sigil. Maybe they were interrupted by Sam and couldn’t finish it? A sinking feeling was forming in the pit of her stomach, but she told herself to remain calm. The angel didn’t know they knew what they knew. If everybody just acted normally, then they’d have time to figure it out. 

Jess took a deep breath to calm her nerves and plastered a fake smile on her face as she made her way back out into the corridors to find Dean. She checked the library first, but only found Kevin.

“Hey, Kev, did you guys get the sigil painted?” Jessica asked as she walked up the three short stairs into the room.

Kevin looked up from his notes, where he was back at work trying to translate the Angel Tablet. “Yeah, it’s all taken care of.”

“Oh, okay, good,” Jessica replied, “I was just in there looking for you guys, I didn’t see the sigil.”

“It’s behind the door,” Kevin said, not looking away from his notebook, “Dean wanted it hidden.”

Right. That made sense. Dean was smart. He wouldn’t want the angel to figure out what was happening before it happened. “Where’s Dean?”

Kevin sighed, tired of his work being interrupted. “I don’t know, he went that way,” he pointed to the hallway past the War Room, “to the kitchen, maybe his room.”

“Thanks,” Jess said and followed in that direction, but when she reached the kitchen it was empty. 

Something wasn’t right.

Cautiously, she made her way down the hall to Dean’s room, hoping to avoid running into Sam. Her luck prevailed on that front, but Dean wasn’t in his room either. Where was he? She checked her room and then snuck a peek into Sam’s, but to no avail. Maybe she was worrying for nothing? 

Jessica took a breath and went back to the library to hang with Kevin. Better to be together than alone if something were to happen. Sam’s room was not that far, so it only took her a few seconds to enter through the back entrance. What she saw stopped her dead in her tracks. Sam was there, talking with Kevin.

“Hey, do you notice anything off about Dean lately? Between you and me I’m a little bit worried about him,” Kevin was explaining as Sam walked slowly toward him.

“Don’t worry about Dean,” Sam replied robotically, “Dean will be fine.”

Jessica’s blood ran cold. That wasn’t Sam. It was his voice, but not his demeanor or his inflection. She had heard it before. That was the angel speaking.

Before she had time to react, Sam’s hand reached out and connected with Kevin’s forehead, a stream of angelic light emanating from his eyes and mouth with a painful scream. “Kevin!” she called out, right before Dean’s voice did the same. She saw Dean running toward the scene, but he didn’t make it in time. Kevin’s body fell to the floor and the angel used his powers to shove Dean into the bookcase behind him, pinning him there motionless. 

“Dean!” she shouted, running forward to help him, but was knocked backward by the angel, falling flat on her tailbone, the wind knocked out of her. She winced and rolled in pain.

“Don’t you hurt her, Sam!” Dean shouted, straining against the hold the angel had on him.

“There is no more Sam,” the angel responded calmly, “but I played him convincingly I thought.” He turned and began putting the Angel and Demon Tablets into Kevin’s book bag, which was sitting on the table next to his notes.

Dean, still struggling, tried to talk to him to keep his attention away from Jessica, “How did you…?”

“I heard you talk with Kevin Tran tonight,” he replied with deadly-sounding deliberation, “alter a sigil, even the slightest, alter the spell.” He held his hand up to show the green paint smeared on his fingertips. “Sorry about Kevin, but ultimately, it’s for the best,” the angel placed a small scrap of paper on Kevin’s chest, “I did what I had to.” He looked over to where Jessica still sat on the floor, her face scrunched up in pain. “I’m sorry for that too.”

Through her pain and gritted teeth, Jessica found her courage and spat back at the angel occupying her friend, “You will be!”

“Jess, don’t!” Dean warned. He couldn’t help her if this son of a bitch decided to retaliate.

The angel turned to look at Dean with Sam’s eyes, took a beat, and then slowly walked past him toward the bunker’s exit, the force he was using to hold Dean at bay drained off as he stepped out of the library.

Dean fell to the floor with a thud grasping at his chest, the pressure had felt like it would kill him. Once he caught his breath, he called out to Jessica. “Are you okay?”

By this point she had managed to sit up, and was rubbing her backside. “I’ll be alright, what about Kevin?”

Dean’s eyes fell on the prophet now, whose own eyes were empty smoking sockets of darkness and ember. “Kevin?” he called tentatively, trying to deny what he knew was the truth. “Kevin?” he tried again, the inevitable being clear. “Kevin?” one more time before letting the tears fall down his face. He slumped down into himself, and let himself cry, let himself mourn his friend who wanted nothing to do with this life and had been thrust into it by forces beyond his control, a friend who _he_ had dragged into this fight kicking and screaming; another friend who died because of him. 

Dean heard her voice say his name before he realized she was next to him. He looked up at Jessica, as she sunk into him, wrapping her arms around him. With a sharp intake of breath, he closed his eyes and pulled her close, letting the weight of what had just happened crush down on him, and they stayed there like that for a long time, just holding the pieces of each other together.


	17. "Lay It On The Line"

The bright orange blaze sent a haze of heat into the night sky. Jessica leaned into Dean, her arm wrapped around his, their hands intertwined as they both stood tearily watching Kevin’s funeral pyre burn. The air around them was cold, but they could feel the heat emanating from the fire as they stood there together in silence. This was Jessica’s second hunter’s funeral since she’d arrived, but it was much more difficult this time than last. With Prometheus, it was sad because of the circumstance, but with Kevin it was different. He had become their family, and the circumstances surrounding _his_ death were weighing heavily on both her and Dean. 

He was killed by Sam’s hand. 

It wasn’t Sam’s fault, by any means, but it was difficult to wrap her head around. Though logically she knew that it was the angel possessing Sam that ended Kevin’s life, the image of one friend killing another was seared into her brain. 

If _she_ was having trouble dealing with it, then Dean, who had let the angel into their lives in the first place, was certainly having an even harder time. Guilt was Dean’s modus operandi, and he had been nothing but quiet since they picked themselves up off the floor of the library earlier that day. “We need to take care of the body,” was all he had said since. 

Jessica had watched him chop and stack the wood to build the pyre, and then watched as he lifted Kevin’s lifeless body in a fireman’s carry to place him in position. When she offered to help he shrugged her off. But he needed the emotional support, and once the fire was set ablaze, it was Dean who took hold of her hand. Jess laid her head up against his bicep, not quite tall enough to lie on his shoulder, and squeezed his arm tight.

They stood there together for hours, well after Kevin’s remains had turned to ash, so when they returned home to the bunker, Jessica could barely keep her eyes open. Before she went to bed, she hugged Dean one more time, telling him to get some sleep as well, but Dean wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. His body was tired, but his mind was whirling with sadness, terror, and guilt.

The library was just as they had left it: Kevin’s notes, piles of books, the crust from his PB&J were still sitting there like a macabre vignette of his life. It was his cell phone that caught Dean’s attention, and when he pressed down on the home button, the screen flashed to life with a picture of Kevin and Mrs. Tran smiling together during better times. Now they were both dead, and he was to blame for all of it! The pain became too much to handle, and Dean sent the phone flying across the room to shatter into pieces of glass and plastic. His rage couldn’t be contained as he swiped the remains of Kevin’s work from the table, breaking the glass with what was left of the kid’s milk from earlier. The table lamp and the chair Kevin had been sitting in also lost their lives before Dean, suddenly aware of how bereft he felt, let the grief wash over him and fell to his knees over the spot where Kevin laid lifeless just hours ago.

*****

Jessica was up early the next morning. She had slept restlessly during the night, visions of Sam killing Kevin playing over and over again in her dreams. The last nightmare that woke her with a start was Sam killing Dean. Sweat had pooled around the back of her neck, staining her pillowcase. Shaking the dream off, she took a shower and got dressed, stripped the sheets from her bed and set them to soak in the washer, and then headed to the kitchen to start breakfast. On the way, she knocked lightly on Dean’s door to see if he was still asleep. There was no answer, so she opened the door just a crack to peek in. He was out like a light, but he was safe. Thankfully, her dream had been just that, a dream. 

She didn’t want to make an elaborate breakfast. It was just her and Dean now, a thought that sent a jolt of pain through her chest. Mostly, she just didn’t feel up to cooking. She was too emotionally drained for it, so she opted for a quick frittata. Whipping up some eggs with bits of sausage and bacon, and some cheese and a few onions and peppers that were left over from a recipe she made days ago and needed to be used up, she poured the mixture into a cast iron pan and set it in the oven to cook through. While she waited she dialed Cas.

The line rang a few times before he answered.

“Hey, Cas. It’s Jessica. How’s it going?” she greeted when he answered.

Cas deadpanned the events of his escape from the angel Malachi and Jessica listened politely to the story, even though Dean had already mentioned it to her the day before. “How are you doing?” Cas responded in kind to her question once he relayed his own answer.

Jessica took a shaky breath before answering. “Um…not so good, Cas.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice serious, “Is Dean okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile a little. The Destiel fans would have approved of that response. “Actually, no one’s really okay right now. Maybe you should come visit? I think we could stand to have another friend around at the moment.”

“Of course, I’ll come right away,” Cas responded, “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“When you get here,” Jess said.

Castiel agreed and they both hung up the phone in time for Dean to walk into the kitchen. He was already dressed.

“Morning,” he said, his voice still gravely from sleep.

Jess half-smiled at him and nodded, “There’s coffee in the pot, and breakfast will be done in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, pouring himself a cup and sitting down at the table. He took a sip and then leaned onto his elbows, his head bowed over. The timer on the oven went off, pulling him out of his miserable reverie and he watched as Jessica took the pan out of the oven and grabbed a potholder off the counter. She carried them over to the table and placed the pan down on the cloth in the center of the table. Dean turned around and grabbed a few plates off the buffet behind him and set them out for the two of them, while she went back to the counter to grab a spatula and some silverware.

Jessica served them both up a wedge of the omelette and they began to eat in silence. 

Dean was the first one to break it. “How’d you sleep last night?” he asked, not looking up from his plate.

“Not well, you?” Jessica countered.

“About the same,” he replied, “How’s your butt?”

She smiled at the question. “It’s sore, but I’ll be alright.”

“Good,” Dean responded, and shoved another bite of egg into his mouth.

They finished breakfast without another word, neither of them wanting to address the obvious. Dean helped her clean up and wash the dishes and then went to his room to grab his duffel and gather up some weapons he might need. He was going to have to track his brother down and deal with the angel. He wasn’t going to just let what happened stand.

When he was in the library, sorting through his bag, Castiel suddenly appeared all dressed back up in his holy tax accountant getup looking brand spanking new again. “Jessica called this morning,” Cas announced, “I came as soon as I could.” He looked around the room, noticing the broken lamp that still laid on the floor and the chair that was overturned. “Dean, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Dean stopped packing the weapons into his duffel and leaned onto the table. With a deep breath, he looked to Cas and told him to have a seat. He spilled everything, from how bad Sam was after the trials to the way he tricked him into saying yes to the angel he thought was Ezekiel to watching Kevin die. He had felt like he had no other choice at the time, but it bit him in the ass as usual.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas sympathized.

“Well, sorry don’t pay the bills, does it?” was all he could say in response. Dean got up from the table and turned his back toward Cas, “It sure as Hell isn’t gonna bring Kevin back.” His shame was evident, but he couldn’t let that be what drove him. Revenge. Revenge was what he wanted. “We gotta find the son of a bitch.”

“Dean, if the angel possessing Sam isn’t Ezekiel, then who is he?” Cas wondered.

His face hardened into an angry resolve, and he turned around. “Dead man walking,” Dean replied deadly serious.

*****

Jessica was on her way back to her room after pulling her sheets out of the dryer when she saw Dean and Cas heading toward the dungeon. She didn’t know Cas had even arrived yet, he hadn’t said hello, and the two of them looked like they were on a mission, so she dropped the sheets off on her bed, leaving them in a balled-up heap, and made her way back to Crowley’s cell. Stopping outside the doorway, she listened to their conversation. It sounded like they were asking for Crowley’s help and he was trying to bargain with them, asking for a massage. Jessica shook her head and smiled. Sometimes Crowley didn’t exactly live up to his reputation as the big bad King of Hell. She was convinced he was a big old softie underneath all his bluster.

Of course, Dean refused to rub him, but Crowley had requested Kevin anyway. Jessica’s heart dropped when she heard Castiel’s response.

“Kevin is dead,” he stated matter-of-factly, but his voice was tinted slightly with anger.

There was a long pause and then Crowley offered his condolences. “Told him this was gonna happen. I was the only person who tried to warn him. I told him to run.”

“From what,” Dean responded. He sounded so very tired.

“You,” Crowley offered, “How many times am I gonna have to say this? People in your general vicinity don’t have much in the way of a lifespan.”

He was getting his digs in to Dean, and Jessica wasn’t going to let him continue. Dean had enough guilt without Crowley piling it on. It wasn’t Dean’s fault, not entirely. Jessica made her way into the room. “That’s enough, Crowley!”

“Pumpkin!” he greeted, “Don’t forget I told you the same. The faster you can get away from Dean Winchester, the better.” He grinned, satisfied with himself.

Dean turned to look over his shoulder at her. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

She continued walking toward them and placed herself between him and Cas. “Just trying to stay in the loop. What’s going on?”

Cas was about to clue her in, but Dean shook his head at him and he stopped before he got a word out.

“Oh c’mon,” she complained, “are you really still going to keep secrets from me after what happened?”

“Let the little lady stay. She’s the only one of you lot that I actually like,” Crowley stood up for her, and then continued their conversation, “Now, I can’t teach you how to crack open an angel, it’s more art than science, but I can do it for you. All I ask in return is a little field trip. I’m dying for some fresh air.” Crowley smiled and held up his hands to show off his hardware, “Chains on, naturally.”

Dean thought about it for a nanosecond before saying no, and turned to walk away.

“No, of course not,” Crowley called after him, “because if I’m plan A I’m sure you have a totally viable plan B.”

Jess gave Crowley an exasperated look and turned toward Dean. She whispered to him so that Crowley couldn’t hear her, “Is this for Sam? Are we going to try and get him back?”

Dean looked over his shoulder at Crowley to make sure he wasn’t listening in. He leaned down to answer her, his voice barely audible, “Cas says there’s a way to get past the angel that’s possessing him so we can talk to Sam directly. Crowley knows how, but he’s being a dick about it, and I don’t know if I want him digging around in my brother’s head.”

“Will it work?” Jessica asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean sighed.

Jessica thought about it for a second before responding, “I think we should try. If we can get Sam back…”

Dean turned around to look at Crowley, weighing his options, but Cas didn’t think it was a good idea. They couldn’t trust Crowley, even with the chains on it was risky.

“Looks like we need a tie-breaker,” Crowley provoked, “Go get Moose, Squirrel.”

All three of them responded to the suggestion by looking down at their feet.

“Unless,” Crowley began putting the clues together, “unless of course you can’t. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? The poor giant baby’s in trouble again isn’t he?”

Dean turned abruptly and walked toward him in anger. “Are you done?”

“Depends,” Crowley offered, “do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, not needing even one more second to think about it.

“Excellent, when do we leave?” Crowley relished the thought of leaving that dark, dank dungeon.

The question gave Dean pause. Sam, well, the angel occupying his meatsuit, had taken Baby with him when he left. “As soon as I can scratch up a ride.”

Crowley looked confused. When was Dean Winchester ever without that loud, overcompensation for his manhood he called a car?

“You can take my car,” Jessica offered.

Dean thought for a moment, “Nah, it’s too small for all of us.”

“Oh, I have a vehicle,” Cas offered, “It stopped a few miles from here, inexplicably.”

Cas having a car was weird, but Dean wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Fine, let’s go.” He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the padlock that was keeping the shackle around Crowley’s neck in place.

“I’m coming too,” Jessica announced, causing Dean to stop what he was doing abruptly.

“Like Hell you are,” he responded, “You’re staying here.”

“Oh let her come! She’ll be better company than you and Feather’s here,” Crowley advocated.

Dean smirked at him, “Like I said, you’re staying!”

“C’mon, you know I can handle a gun if I need to, and we’ve been training! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise!” Jess pleaded.

“No!” Dean responded firmly.

“Dean, please,” Jessica’s tone was more desperate, “I don’t want to stay here by myself. What if he comes back when you’re gone?”

Dean looked at her earnestly. Her eyes blinked back at him rapidly and her mouth was taught. She looked like a baby deer staring down the barrel of a gun. He didn’t want her to go, didn’t want her to be there if he had to…the things they would need to do to Sam. 

“She’s right you know,” Crowley chimed in, “This place seems decent enough to hold someone in, but it hasn’t exactly done the job of keeping the nasties out. The lovely little witch got in, and the place didn’t exactly save Kevin from his demise now did it?”

Cas looked at Dean, who was chewing on his bottom lip. “As much as I hate to agree with Crowley, they both have a point. We shouldn’t leave her here by herself.”

“Then you stay here with her and I’ll take Crowley to find Sam,” Dean offered, trying his damnedest not to pull Jessica into this mess.

“No, you need me to help with Sam,” Cas reasoned.

Dean clenched his jaw, not liking this idea one bit, but ultimately he couldn’t argue the fact that it could be just as dangerous to leave her behind as it would be to bring her along. At least if she came with them, there were three of them to protect her if things went awry. “Fine,” he said, moving closer to her, “but you stay by me or Cas at all times, got it?”

Jessica nodded in agreement, the anxiety of being left alone subsiding.

Once Dean finished packing up his duffel bag the four of them headed downtown to find Cas’s car. They stopped on the way at the gas station to fill up a portable gas can, since the way Castiel had described the issue with the car sounded like it had simply run out. As they walked the next couple of blocks, Dean made sure that Jessica stayed by his side, away from Crowley, and Cas flanked the King of Hell’s other side. He was still cuffed, his coat draped over his hands so no bystanders would see and become suspicious, but Dean wasn’t taking any chances of him trying to run. He hated to admit it, but Crowley was his only hope to save his brother.

Once they reached Cas’s car, Dean confirmed that it was indeed just out of gas and set about filling the tank. They would have to stop at a fill-up joint on the way out to top it off, but it would at least get them moving in the right direction. 

As soon as they were ready to roll, Crowley spoke up, “Shotgun!”

“Uhhh, wrong,” Dean corrected him, “You’re in the back.”

Cas grinned at Crowley like a petulant child who always got his way as he opened the front door to get in.

“Hey,” Dean continued, “you too! Keep an eye on him. Jess, you’re up front.” He waited for the two of them to climb in the back seat and then sent Jessica around to get in the passenger side.

“Watch the leg!” Crowley complained as Cas tried to move into his seat.

“You’re on my side,” Cas argued back.

Dean wasn’t having any of it, “Hey, hey, hey!” He shook his head, exasperated by their childish behavior.

“Well, this ought to be a fun road trip,” Jessica said trying to contain her amusement.

“Yeah, it’ll be buckets of fun,” Dean mumbled and started up the car. Hip-hop music blasted through the stereo and the hydraulics bounced the car up and down roughly as they drove away.

*****

Sam had been tied to a chair for almost a half an hour now. They had tracked down Dean’s stolen Impala to a town in Pennsylvania and spent most of the day driving there. When they arrived, Dean and Cas found the angel inside his brother had carried out another murder using Sam’s hands. The angel didn’t take kindly to Dean interrupting him, and had sent him flying across the room without breaking a sweat, but Cas caught him unaware and Sam and his tenant had been knocked unconscious long enough for them to get him to the abandoned factory they were currently occupying. When the angel woke up he wasn’t too happy being bound and at their mercy, but he didn’t show his displeasure by complaining. Rather, he spent his words on taunting Dean and threatening to end Sam’s life.

It had become clear that they weren’t going to get anywhere trying to convince the angel to leave, so Crowley went to work, shoving needles into Sam’s skull, trying to reach the angel’s inner coding in order to suss out a way to break through whatever barrier he had put up to keep Sam locked away in there. Every now and again, the angel would mutter something in Enochian that was of no importance, just basic factory settings as Crowley had called it. Jessica watched from across the room, as Dean had requested, while Sam’s body screamed in agony. Crowley was focused on his task, but the rest of them did what they could to ignore the torturous sounds Sam was making. Dean was pacing back and forth, stopping every once in a while to check in on his brother’s condition. He was clearly upset by the whole ordeal, and Jessica wanted to comfort him so badly, but she didn’t want to upset him more by getting in the way, so she stayed where she was.

This whole process went on for over an hour before Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t watch his brother go through this. With a pained expression on his face, he walked away to the far end of the building. Cas was about to go after him, but Jessica told him to stay and keep an eye on Sam and Crowley. She’d take care of Dean.

“Dean, you okay?” Jessica asked when she caught up with him.

“I can’t watch that anymore,” he responded, his face betraying the anguish he felt inside.

Jessica reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a little squeeze. “I know, it’s horrible, I can’t stand to see Sam in so much pain. It’s necessary though, right?”

“I guess so,” Dean sighed.

Another scream echoed through the warehouse, drawing Dean’s attention. He turned away to look at Jessica again. He needed a distraction. “How are you holding up?”

“Does that really matter right now?” she asked.

He huffed, “Humor me. I just want to talk about anything that’s not a demon sticking needles into my brother’s brain.” He walked a few steps away from her, turning his back to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I’m okay, I’m just worried about you right now,” Jessica said.

“You still want to be a hunter?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“I never said I wanted to hunt,” Jessica replied, “I just want to be able to handle myself if something comes at me. I don’t want to feel helpless if I’m faced with some rogue angel or demon that shows up at the bunker intent on killing one of us. I don’t want to die.”

Dean turned around to look at her, his eyes filled with a sorrow that had nothing to do with his brother’s current situation. He hated that she didn’t feel safe. He needed her to know that he would never let anything happen to her. He would die first. “Listen to me,” he tilted her chin up with his hand to look her in the eyes, “nothing’s going to happen to you while I’m around.”

“What if you aren’t around though?” she questioned.

He nodded his head, “Well, then I guess we better keep working on your training.”

Sam screamed again.

“This is my fault, all of it,” Dean mused, “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t just let him die.”

“Dean, you couldn’t have known this was going to happen. It’s not your fault,” Jessica tried to soothe him.

“Yeah, well, tell that to Sam.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Crowley called for them to come back. Dean took off like a shot, hoping against hope that Crowley finally broke through. Jessica quickly followed after him.

“Pinhead’s out cold,” Crowley announced when they returned, “but watch this.” He twisted two of the pins that were lodged in Sam’s left temple and the angel began talking again. 

“What’s he saying?” Dean asked.

“His name,” Cas responded, his face filled with shock at the revelation, “Gadreel.”

Dean, confused by Cas’s reaction asked, “Does that mean something to you?"

“Well it’s why I’ve never seen him, he’s been imprisoned since the dawn of time,” Cas explained, “Gadreel was the sentry who allowed Lucifer into the garden.”

“My, my, a celebrity!” Crowley chimed in.

“Wait the garden, like Eden? Adam and Eve, fig leaves garden?” Dean inquired.

Cas began getting more heated. “It’s his fault, all of it! The corruption of man, demons, Hell…God left because of him, the archangels…the apocalypse. If he hadn’t been so weak…” Castiel rushed forward to take his anger out on Gadreel. “None of it would have happened,” He grabbed the angel by the shirt and began shaking him, “You ruined the universe you damn son of a bitch!”

“Cas! Cas!” Dean shouted pulling his friend away from his brother, “I get it, but you gotta chill.”

Castiel grit his teeth together and shook Dean off. Of course he was right, the angel was unconscious at the moment, and he would only be hurting Sam anyway. Still there was rage in his eyes, and Dean backed off and put his hands up in surrender. Cas shook it off and walked away.

Crowley went back to work without much luck for the next twenty minutes, until finally a gasping sound spilled from Sam’s mouth. Dean looked hopeful that his brother was coming to, but it was the angel who spoke.

“It won’t work. You will never find your brother,” he looked from Dean to Crowley, “Go ahead, poke and prod. I can sit in this chair for years and watch you fail over and over again. I’ve endured much worse than this, Dean. So much worse, and I have all the time in the world.”

“Shut up!” Dean barked. He wasn’t going to take anymore of this. “All right, plan B, Cas…you gotta possess him.”

As much as Dean insisted that he should try, Castiel knew that wouldn’t work. He would have to be invited in to possess Sam, and Sam wasn’t exactly in control. Gadreel would never allow it. But there was a plan C: Crowley. He was a demon, and demons didn’t need permission to possess a vessel, they could just take what they wanted. Dean didn’t like the idea, but Crowley was right. What other option did they have? If Crowley could get inside and alert Sam to the situation, Sam could eject that ass clown that had him locked away in some dream. This might be their only hope left. Of course it wouldn’t come without a price; nothing ever does with the King of Hell. He used it as his bargaining chip to be released from his prison. Dean would have to let him go if he helped Sam.

“Cas, burn off Sam’s tattoo,” Dean ordered, and with a bit of hesitation, Cas followed his command.

As Dean took the chains off of Crowley, the angel Gadreel threatened to destroy the demon, challenging him in a battle of will. He had no idea how scrappy the King of Hell could be. 

Dean stepped back and put his arm out in front of Jessica, urging her to get behind him. He needed to keep his promise to her that he would protect her in case something went sideways here. He, Cas, and Jess watched as Crowley released his inner demon, red smoke spiraling out of his body and into Sam’s mouth. Gadreel seemed to be fighting it, but he couldn’t keep Crowley out. His body went limp as soon as he swallowed the smoke.

They waited for what seemed like an eternity for any sign of life. Cas stood like a sentinel next to Sam’s form while Dean paced the floor. Even though Castiel warned that they would have to do something if this didn’t work, Dean couldn’t allow himself to think that way. It had to work. They had to get Sam back.

Suddenly, bright angelic light spewed forth from Sam’s mouth. The glare was so bright that they all had to shield their eyes from the sight. The light faded, and soon the rich, red demon smoke made its way out and back into Crowley’s meatsuit. Both Dean and Castiel rushed to Sam’s side, Dean began to unchain him and Cas started to pull the pins out of his head. Sam looked worse for wear, but he regained consciousness and recognized Castiel, so that was a good sign.

Their luck was short lived however, when they noticed headlights flash across the warehouse windows and heard the crunch of tires on the gravel outside. Cas ran up the stairs to see what was going on while Dean continued to get his brother out of the shackles that held the angel Gadreel. Jessica ran over, wiped some blood from Sam’s forehead, and grabbed ahold of his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

“Sam, you okay? Can you hear me?” she asked.

He nodded back at her, a little woozy.

“It’s Abaddon!” Cas announced with alarm and then ran back down the stairs to help Sam get onto his feet.

“Go,” Crowley offered, “the back door. I’ll handle this.”

“Oh cause you’re such a good guy?” Dean sassed.

Crowley let the insult roll right off his shoulders. “Right now I’m the goodest guy you got.” He handed Dean his duffle bag.

“This don’t make us square,” Dean warned, “I see you again…”

“I’m dead. Yes, I know. I love you too,” Crowley interrupted him.

Cas had already been helping Sam toward the back entrance when Dean grabbed Jessica by the arm and took off in the same direction.

“Pleasure doing business with you boys, as always,” Crowley called after them as he rolled his eyes.

Jessica pulled away from Dean and ran back to kiss Crowley on the cheek. “Thank you, Crowley!”

“You’re welcome, Pumpkin,” Crowley responded with a cheeky grin, “Now get outta here.”

“Jessica, let’s go!” Dean shouted for her, and she ran back to him leaving the King of Hell behind.

When they got outside they headed towards the two cars. Cas helped Dean get Sam into the passenger seat of the Impala as Jessica slid in the back. “Follow me, Cas,” Dean directed as he climbed into the driver’s seat and fired up the ignition. 

Castiel got into his car and they drove at least thirty miles away before pulling over at a fishing pier to regroup. They all got out into the cool night air, and even though it was raining, much needed relief washed over them. They were out of danger, for now, and Sam was back in control. Castiel healed Sam’s external wounds, but would need more time to patch him up inside.

Dean had hung back and let his buddy do his thing, but then he needed to make amends with his brother. “All right, let me hear it,” he said, inviting Sam’s ridicule.

“What do you want me to say, I’m pissed? Okay, I am, I’m pissed,” Sam began, “You lied to me, again.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Dean reasoned.

But Sam wasn’t having any of it. “I was ready to die, Dean!”

“I know,” Dean responded, “but I wouldn’t let you, because that’s not in me.”

Jessica and Cas stood to the side to let them have their moment, but they could hear every excruciating word.

“So what, you decided to trick me into being possessed by some psycho angel?”

Dean huffed, “He saved your life.”

“So what?” Sam said again, “I was willing to die…and now Kevin…”

“No, that is not on you. Kevin’s blood is on my hands and that ain’t ever getting clean.” Dean’s voice sounded strained. “I’ll burn for that. I will! But I’ll find Gadreel and I will end that son of a bitch...” Dean paused for a long time, thinking. He kept screwing everything up. He couldn’t keep letting everyone he loved down. “…but I’ll do it alone.”

Sam shook his head in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dean was in full-on self-deprecation mode. “C’mon man, can’t you see I’m…I’m poison. Sam, people get close to me, they get killed or worse!”

Jessica’s heart dropped. She didn’t like what she was hearing one bit. She tried to walk over to him, but Castiel held her back.

“Let them work it out,” he cautioned her.

Dean continued his ranting, “And I tell myself that I – I – I help more people than I hurt, and I tell myself that I’m doing it all for the right reasons, and I…I believe that! But I can’t…I won’t drag anybody through the muck with me, not anymore.”

A weighty silence sat between the four of them, only the white noise of the raindrops pounding the wooden dock to break through. The brothers looked at each other, faces strained with two different kinds of misery for a very long time until Sam finally shattered the silence. “Go,” he said, “I’m not gonna stop you.”

The broken silence was now shards of glass that pierced through Jessica’s heart. What was Sam doing? 

Dean nodded his head and pursed his lips. He looked to Cas and then to Jessica, and with a sadness that echoed into the night, turned to walk away.

“No,” Jessica mumbled and pulled away from Cas’s grip.

“But don’t go thinking that’s the problem, cause it’s not,” Sam called after him, and Dean halted for a moment, keeping his back turned.

Jessica took a step forward, but stopped too, hopeful that he would change his mind.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked without even looking over his shoulder.

“Just go,” Sam declared.

“What? Sam, what are you doing?” Jess shoved Sam’s shoulder, but he just looked at her with sorrow-filled, but determined eyes. “He saved your life!” she protested. Dean was walking away now, but she couldn’t let him go. She ran through the rain to catch up with him, just as he reached the Impala. “Dean, wait!” she called, her voice high and tight from the lump forming in her throat. Her hand grabbed ahold of his jacket and she turned him to face her. At this point the tears had already begun to stream down her face, and the rain would have camouflaged them if it weren’t for the sniffling. “Dean you can’t leave! You promised you’d protect me!”

Dean closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see her like this. “You just stay with Sam and Cas,” he said, “They’ll keep you safe.”

“No!” Jess cried, “Dean, please, don’t leave me. It’s not your fault. You and Sam will work it out! You don’t have to go!”

“I’m sorry,” Dean replied and turned again, pulling out his car keys from his front pocket.

Jessica pulled on his sleeve to stop him again. “Dean you can’t! I – I love you!” She looked up at him with wide eyes, red and puffy with tears.

He brought his hands up to cradle the sides of her face, and dropped his head down, resting his forehead on hers, the tips of their noses touching and he spoke quietly, “I know. That’s why I have to go. I’m no good for you. I’m only going to bring you down, and I can’t do that to you.” Dean lifted his lips to her forehead and placed a lingering kiss there to quiet her. When he pulled away, he looked down into her eyes again and said, “Take care of Sammy for me.” He tried to smile at her, but only managed to crook up one side of his mouth. With a deep breath, he let her go and got into the Impala.

Jessica stood there in shock. She couldn’t move and she watched through watery eyes as Dean started up the car. A warm hand was placed on her shoulder, and she turned around to see sympathy in Castiel’s angelic blue eyes. She buried her face into his trench coat and sobbed as Baby’s tires peeled out on the wet, wooden planks of the pier and Baby disappeared into the darkness.


	18. "No More Darkness, No More Light"

CLICK, CLICK – CLICK, CLICK, CLICK – the sound of keystrokes on Sam’s laptop echoed through the war room. He was fast and furiously typing in some code to hack into the security footage of a store front a few towns over where news of some strange, angelic-like events took place. He was hoping that it would be the break they needed to find Gadreel. After the ordeal in the warehouse, having Crowley digging into his brain – literally – all he could think about was getting his revenge on the angel that had taken up residence in his head. Kevin was dead, and that damned angel used his hands to do it. Sam wasn’t going to let that stand.

“Has she come out of her room today?” Cas asked from across the table, distracting Sam from his task for a moment.

Sam looked up, “I haven’t seen her. She hasn’t said a word to me since the other night.”

“She blames you for Dean leaving,” Cas speculated.

Sam went back to his work. “I don’t know why. He was the one who walked away.”

“You didn’t exactly try to stop him,” Cas considered.

“It was his choice,” Sam announced, “He wanted to go and I wasn’t going to stop him.”

There was a long pause and then Cas spoke up again, “Maybe we should go check on her?”

“She’ll come out when she’s ready, Cas. She’s upset, she’ll get over it.” Sam spoke as he continued searching through the security footage. “Nothing,” Sam announced with a sigh, slamming his laptop shut, “There’s nothing here!”

“We’ll find him, Sam,” Cas consoled him, “but it might take some time. Gadreel doesn’t want to be found. Eventually he’ll slip up and we’ll make both him and Metatron pay for what they’ve done.”

Sam stood up, a little shaky on his legs, but he found his footing. His condition still wasn’t back to normal, but Cas had been slowly healing him a bit at a time. They had several more sessions to go before he would be completely healed from the toll the trials took on him, but Cas assured him that it could be done in time.

“We should work on your healing again,” Cas stood and pressed his fingertips to Sam’s forehead. It only lasted a moment, but Cas could feel Sam’s insides knitting themselves back together. 

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam said, then headed into the kitchen for another glass of water and maybe a snack. He had been working all through the morning and he was getting hungry.

The refrigerator was empty, except for a few eggs, a third of a gallon of questionable milk, and some moldy cheese, which Sam quickly tossed into the trash bin. There were still a few containers of the stew that Jessica had made weeks ago in the freezer, but that wasn’t exactly fit for a late breakfast. The only other option was peanut butter and jelly, but he wanted something more substantial than that.

They had been so busy lately that they hadn’t been paying attention to their supplies. Jessica was usually the one who kept up with all of it, but it was understandable that she wasn’t feeling like keeping house what with everything that happened with Kevin. Now, she was hiding away in her room, because of Dean’s departure. Sam figured he better pick up the slack. It was the least he could do. He knew she was mad at him, probably projecting the anger she felt about his brother, and besides, it wasn’t exactly her job to tend to them all the time. She had taken up that responsibility since she got there, but he was going to start doing more for himself so that it wasn’t always on her.

Sam announced that he was heading out to the store to pick up a few things, and left Cas behind to do some more research on where Gadreel might be. But Cas couldn’t find anything more than Sam had already uncovered, and that was a big fat nothing. He decided it would be a better use of his time to check in on Jessica.

Cas walked down the long corridors and stopped just outside her room. The door was closed and locked. He knocked lightly, but there was no answer. “Jessica,” he called, “are you okay in there?”

Still, no answer.

He tried again, “Are you hungry? I can make you some PB and J.”

No answer.

“Alright, well, maybe you’re sleeping? Sam and I are here if you need anything.” Cas listened for another brief moment before giving up and heading back into the war room to wait for Sam’s return.

Inside her room, Jessica lay on her side, hugging her pillow tight. She was awake; she heard every word that Castiel had said, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer him. It wasn’t like she was mad at Cas, she just needed to be alone right now. The past few nights had been difficult. She hadn’t had enough time to process all the tragedy that had befallen them. She was still mourning Kevin when they had found Gadreel and was forced to watch as Crowley tried to torture him out of Sam. Worse, she had to bottle up all her own emotions because she needed to be strong for Dean, who clearly wasn’t dealing well with it on his own.

Now, Dean was gone. 

She had finally admitted her feelings for him…and he still left.

Jessica had cried into Castiel’s chest for a long time that night as the rain fell around them on that pier. By the time the three of them got back into Castiel’s pimp mobile to head home to the bunker, they were all soaked down to their undergarments. Sam had been in no shape to drive and Jess was still a sniveling mess in the back seat, so Cas drove his two broken companions home. The tears had dried up by the time they arrived, and anger had now taken hold of Jessica’s heart. 

How could Sam have let Dean go, after everything that his brother had done for him? Maybe Dean didn’t make the best judgement call when he let Gadreel in, but it was all he could do to save Sam. How was he supposed to know that the angel had lied to them about who he was? How could he have known that the angel would double-cross them and kill Kevin? No, Sam had no right to be angry with his brother! She had stomped off to her room and slammed the door that night, and she hadn’t come out since, with the exception of sneaking off to use the bathroom when she needed it. Luckily, she had avoided running into Sam, and she was hoping to keep it that way. She didn’t want to see him right now. She was afraid she might say something she would regret later.

Jessica rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She felt like shit. Cas had asked if she was hungry, and to be honest she hadn’t really thought much about it, but now that he mentioned it her stomach was releasing indignant growls. Her head was feeling a bit achy too. With a heavy sigh, she forced herself to sit up and walked over to the sink in the corner of her room to brush her teeth. They were feeling grimy from the neglect that she had bestowed upon them in the past seventy-two hours. Now that her mouth was minty fresh, she was already starting to feel a bit more like herself, but if she was being honest, a nice, hot shower would be even better, and she really needed one. 

After cleaning herself up, she made her way to the Men of Letter’s kitchen. She emptied the last of the coffee grinds into the filter and pressed the button on to brew. While she waited she opened up the fridge to look for something to eat. There was nothing. Apparently, when she wasn’t around to do the shopping, the boys just left it chance that they would ever eat again. At least there were a few eggs left, so she quickly whisked them up and made a scramble. It was better than nothing, and it satiated her rumbling stomach for now. She took a sip of her coffee – disgusting without cream or milk, but after sniffing what was left in the jug she decided she would just deal with it – then the tell-tale squeal of the front door reached her ears. _Dean?_ She thought, hopeful.

Jess put her mug down on the table and walked quickly into the war room, but it was only Cas and Sam that greeted her.

“You’re up!” Cas smiled at her, relieved. He had been worried about her well-being.

Jessica looked from Cas to Sam and frowned. “I heard the door…” she hedged, even though she already knew Dean hadn’t come back.

Sam held up a plastic bag, “Yeah, I just went out to get us some breakfast. We’re a little…or, well, a lot low on supplies, so I figured I’d better make a run. I’ll go back later to get some actual groceries.” Jessica just stared back at him. Sam pulled out a paper-wrapped bacon, egg, and cheese croissant, which he knew was one of Jessica’s favorite fast food breakfasts, and held it out to her; a peace offering.

“I already ate,” she deadpanned. “I just thought maybe Dean had come home. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Jess, wait!” Sam called after her.

She turned back towards him with clenched teeth and arched her eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I know you’re upset that Dean left, but it was his choice,” Sam explained, “I don’t know why you’re mad at me!”

Jessica smirked back at him, “Well, you don’t seem too broken up about it, do you?” If Sam was going to be petty, then she would be too. She turned on her heels and walked away. When she got back to her room, she slammed her door hard enough that it would hopefully reverberate through the walls so Sam could hear it.

*****

Dean sat in the front of the Impala, unfortunately with Crowley by his side, while they waited for Cain to leave his homestead. They came here to grab the First Blade, and Dean wasn’t going anywhere until he had it in his hands. He needed to make things right. He needed to kill Gadreel and Abaddon, and according to Crowley, this blade might just be the thing he needed to do it. Cain was taking his sweet ol’ time vacating the premises and Dean was getting antsy. His phone buzzed in his front pocket, so he dug it out, all the while keeping a keen eye on the gravel driveway in front of him. He frowned when he saw the text message.

“Who’s that? Moose? Do we really have time to deal with Andre the Giant at the moment?” Crowley sassed in the seat next to him, “Besides, I thought you two were having a lover’s spat right now.”

Dean turned to glower at him, but his eyes softened when he looked back down at the text. Jessica was reaching out again, pleading with him to come home. It was another in a long line of texts that she had sent over the course of the past few days that would remain unanswered. He didn’t want her to worry, but he was afraid that if he answered her, it would just make things worse. It might even break his resolve to steer clear, and he couldn’t afford pulling her back into his mess of a life, especially now. Maybe when he had killed off Abaddon and Gadreel, but even then he wouldn’t be able to guarantee that something else even more sinister wouldn’t worm its way into their lives. Hell, it was likely. No, she was better off without him; everybody was.

“Well? Is it of import?” Crowley needled.

Dean frowned, then cleared the messages and slid the phone back into his jeans. “No,” was all he offered.

Crowley squinted his eyes at him. Clearly something was bothering Squirrel. “Is that halo of yours out of angel juice again?”

Dean rolled his eyes. Crowley was never gonna let it go if he didn’t answer him. “It was Jessica, alright?”

The King of Hell’s mood brightened for a second. “Ah! How _is_ Pumpkin taking to your departure? Does she know it’s one of the _best_ things that could happen to her?” He rambled on, “Now if we could just convince her to flee Bullwinkle as well…”

“Shut up, Crowley,” Dean cut him off, “Cain’s on the move.”

*****

After staring at her phone for several minutes, hoping this time he’d respond, she finally put it down. Dean wasn’t answering her. Hell, she didn’t even know if he had his phone on him. Maybe he abandoned that too. A too familiar twinge ripped through Jessica’s chest. He wasn’t going to answer her, and he wasn’t coming back. Her heart felt like it had just done a belly flop from fifty feet up into a shallow pool, and this pool was filled with piranhas who were now hungrily tearing her apart. Every muscle in her body ached from the grief and the tears that she thought she had cried the last of, but her eyes welled up with fresh ones once again.

She laid her head down on the pillow, still slightly damp from her tears from earlier. It was so easy to sink back into her depression by curling up into the fetal position. Somehow it also made the ache and heartbreak seem to hurt less, just by balling up into herself tightly. Jessica stayed still in that position for a few minutes, and closed her eyes, trying to stop her mind from conjuring images of Dean’s face. Apparently, the struggle was too much for her exhausted mind and body, because the next thing she knew, she was awakened by a familiar baritone voice, screaming in agony.

On instinct, she shot up out of the bed and ran bleary eyed toward the sound. The noise was coming from the infirmary, and when she entered through the threshold, her feet slid to a screeching halt. If it weren’t for the seriousness of what her eyes were witnessing before her, she might have laughed at how cartoonish her entrance seemed. 

Cas turned his head to look at her when he heard her sneakers squeak against the floor. His face locked in a look of consternation; his eyes troubled. 

Jessica looked past him to Sam, reclined on an exam table, a scary looking syringe sticking out from his neck. “Cas, what are you doing to him?” she half-questioned, half-exclaimed! Blood was running in thick rivulets from Sam’s nose and down his chin. 

“Keep going!” Sam ordered behind gritted teeth.

Cas sighed, giving Jessica a look of exasperation, but turned back to him, pulling on the plunger, a bright blue light seeming to flow out into the barrel instead of the dark red blood she was expecting. The sharp ringing sound that the angels tend to make began filling her ears. Sam screamed again.

“Stop it, Cas! Stop!” she ran over to him, stopping just short of yanking on his arm. She was afraid of ripping the needle out of Sam’s neck too quickly, afraid she might do more damage. 

With a regretful look, Castiel glanced from Jessica back to Sam and pressed two fingers around the metal at Sam’s neck. “Hold on,” he said, “this may pinch.” 

Jessica watched as he slowly extracted the longest, scariest needle she had ever seen.

Sam protested, “Cas, what the hell?” Turning his head towards the angel as if he were barely conscious, he squinted up at Cas. Another streak of blood ran down his left cheek from the corner of his eye.

With two fingers pressed to Sam’s forehead, Cas sent healing energy through his body and he flailed upward in the chair before grabbing a hold of his neck where the needle had just been. He sat up wide-eyed and stared at his friend accusingly, “Cas! What the hell was that?!”

“I’ve healed your wounds completely,” the Angel deadpanned.

Sam tried to catch his breath, “And the grace?”

“Well, whatever grace was inside you is gone now. What’s left of Gadreel is in here. We’ll just have to try the spell with what we have.”

“Dammit,” Sam exhaled.

Jessica couldn’t stand idly by anymore. She needed an explanation. “Is anyone going to clue me in on exactly what the hell you two are doing?”

Both men turned to look at her.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” Sam quipped. He flinched at the expression she gave him and instantly regretted his sarcasm.

“I’m pissed at you for being an asshole to your brother,” she responded, stalking toward him, “but it doesn’t mean I want to watch you die in front of me!” She turned abruptly towards Castiel, “And you...why the hell would you do that to him! Don’t you have more sense in that halo of yours?!”

Cas looked at her bashfully, “He made me…”

Her hands flew up in the air, exasperated, as she cut him off, “That’s because he’s a masochist! They both are!” She turned back to yell at Sam some more. “What is it with you guys, always trying to sacrifice yourself to ease your guilt and pain? Don’t you understand that people need you! That I need you!” Tears began to pool in her eyes and she fought to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She threw her arms around Sam’s neck and buried her face into his shoulders. Her words were muffled against the fabric of his tee-shirt. “I can’t lose you too!”

Sam’s face fell at her confession. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He knew she wasn’t dealing well with Dean leaving, of course she wasn’t, she loved his stupid brother, but he never thought that she might love him too. She had become family, and it was only now that she broke down in his arms that he realized how selfish he was being. The falling out he had with his brother had caused more turmoil amongst them than he was originally willing to admit, but her anger over the last few days was because she cared for both of them.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said finally.

Jessica pulled back from him quickly. “You’re damn right you’re sorry!” she said, face flushed with anger again. “Now whatever you two idiots are doing, cut it out!” 

Both Sam and Cas watched as she stormed back out of the room, silently listening to the echo of her footsteps and not saying a word until her retreat was punctuated with the slamming of a door.

“I think she hates me again,” Sam quirked, leaving Castiel no choice but to slow-roll his eyes at the pig-headed Winchester.

*****

The door squeaked shut behind Sam as he returned from his early morning run. He pulled his ear buds from his ears and wiped sweat off his forehead as he descended the stairs. As he reached the floor below he could hear a grinding sound coming from the kitchen and silently worried about what Cas was up to. The angel could be unpredictable at times. But when he rounded the threshold into the kitchen he saw that it was actually Jessica up at this early hour. This was the first time in over a week that she hadn’t slept in. Normally, he had been on his own for breakfast, but maybe this meant that she was finally going to forgive him for what his brother did and let go of her irrational anger.

“Morning!” he chirped as he walked towards the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

She nodded in his direction as she finished using the blender, but didn’t say a word of greeting back.

So, maybe she wasn’t ready to forgive him, but it was still nice to see her up and about instead of hiding away in her room.

“Here,” she finally said as she handed him a glass filled with a thick purple concoction, “I made you a smoothie for breakfast.” 

Sam took the glass from her tentatively, “Really? You didn’t poison it did you?”

Jessica just looked at him, unamused.

“You didn’t, did you?” Sam chuckled uneasily.

“I’m still mad at you,” Jessica responded, “but not enough to kill you.” She unlocked the blender from its base and began washing it out in the sink.

“Well, that’s…reassuring?” Sam half-questioned.

He sat down at the table to drink his berry flavored smoothie and opened up his laptop to see if any of his automated searches he set up to find the whereabouts of Gadreel had produced any results. Nothing. He was starting to think that was never going to find the rogue angel. 

Jessica just finished cleaning the blender when the timer sounded on the waffle iron. She pulled the big round waffle from the appliance and slathered it with butter and syrup before dumping what was left of the blueberries she had used for Sam’s smoothie on top. Then, to Sam’s surprise, she sat down across from him at the table.

“I found a case for you,” she said nonchalantly, as she cut off a piece of her waffle and took her first bite.

Sam looked up from his laptop, “You did? When?” 

“I couldn’t sleep so I got up early and thought I’d see what was going on in the world.”

In actuality, she was searching for cases because she figured that Dean was out there somewhere hunting them down too. Maybe she could find him.

“What’s the case?” Sam asked as he downed the last of the smoothie.

Jessica pulled out her phone and hit a couple of keys to bring up her last search. “New Mexico: Several kids have gotten sick and had to be hospitalized. The doctors are baffled and can’t figure out why.” She handed the phone over to Sam so he could see the article.

He skimmed the first few paragraphs and huffed. “Yeah, this sounds like it might be a Shtriga or an Acheri,” Sam looked up and smiled at Jessica, “Good work!”

Jessica half-smiled back at him and nodded not willing to give up her anger so easily. She tucked back into her breakfast as Sam stood up and placed her phone down next to her on the table. 

“Alright,” he said, “let’s get ready to go. You coming?”

Jessica looked up at him wide-eyed with disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s your case, you found it, so are you coming or what?”

Her face lit up for a moment, excited that he wanted to include her on a hunt, but the brief feeling of acceptance faded as did her smile, and she looked down at the table with a frown. “You go ahead, Dean wouldn’t want me to go.” She could almost hear it now. If Dean were here and Sam had offered to take her hunting, he would have laid into his brother so hard for that stupid idea. She wasn’t ready to hunt! _“She shouldn’t be hunting at all!”_ Dean would argue.

“Yeah well, Dean’s not here,” Sam replied as if he was reading her mind, “It’s clear you are gonna be a part of this world, and it’s about time I teach you the ropes. We’ll take it slow. I won’t let you get hurt.”

_Dean’s not here._ The words stung, but if she was being honest, the idea of getting out of this bunker and doing something other than wallowing in her own sorrow sounded like just the prescription she needed for alleviating her beaten and broken heart. “I’ll go pack a bag,” she said excitedly as she stood up from the table and dumped the rest of her breakfast in the trash.

Sam huffed in amusement at her change in demeanor, “Take your time. I’m gonna go grab a shower first and then we’ll hit the road.”

*****

It was only a seven hour drive from Lebanon to Clayton, New Mexico where the kids were getting sick, so they arrived just after dusk and checked into a run-down little motel on the outskirts of town. Sam turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The room was small, and mostly bare, but it had two double beds, a small table and chairs by the front window and a micro-fridge combo atop which sat a small, outdated television. Other than the sterile décor, it reminded Jessica of the room she woke up in when she somehow jumped into this dimension. 

Sam dropped his bag down on the bed closest to the door. It was his auto-pilot response, as that’s the side he usually occupied when hunting with his brother. 

Following his cue, Jessica dropped her own bag down on the opposite bed and then plopped down next to it, trying to stretch out her back from the long drive in the car. Sam wasn’t a fan of stopping along the way unless it was absolutely necessary, so they only had a few minutes at a gas station to unfold themselves from the confines of the blue Dodge Dart Swinger they had “borrowed” from a street corner in Lebanon. Jessica missed Baby. She missed the owner more. With a long sigh, she sat upright again on the end of the bed and kicked off her boots. “We’re not planning on going anywhere tonight are we?” she asked, pulling each arm one at a time across her chest to stretch the knots out of her shoulders.

Sam was already logging onto his laptop with the motels not so stellar WiFi. He looked over at her, “No, we’ll pick up the case in the morning. Just gonna look up some addresses for local law enforcement offices and see if I can map out a plan for interviewing witnesses.”

“Okay, good,” she stood up and started to rifle through her bag for her lounge wear, “If you don’t mind I’m going to take a nice hot shower. My muscles are spasming from being cooped up in the car all day.”

Sam chuckled, “Not used to life on the road huh? That wasn’t even a long drive!”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t really left the bunker much since I got here, but at least that place is nice and roomy.” She rolled up her sweats and tee shirt and made her way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. The shower was small, but clean, and the water pressure felt good on her sore muscles. By the time she was finished her fingertips looked like raisins and the air was full of steam. The vent was apparently not working properly.

With her hair wrapped up in a towel and her sweats and tee clinging to her still damp skin, Jessica emerged from the bathroom feeling much better than she did when they had first arrived. She was surprised to see Sam still sitting at the computer. “You still doing research?”

Her voice broke his concentration. “No, I’m done. Just looking to see if I could find us a place that delivered. You hungry?”

“Starved!” Jessica replied as she folded up her clothes from earlier. 

“I think our only options are pizza or Chinese. Do you have a preference?”

“Ooh, I could go for Chinese tonight! You want to split something?” she offered.

Sam nodded and got up from the chair, “Yeah, we can. Come look at the menu and write down what you want. I’ve gotta use the restroom.”

They ordered their dinner and then Sam went over the plan for the morning. He didn’t really want Jessica to be out doing the dangerous stuff, but she could help him interview witnesses and do some of the legwork that would hopefully lead them to whatever was making the kids ill. When their food arrived they shared the steamed dumplings and General Tso’s Chicken and then settled in for the night. The bed was kind of lumpy, but Jessica was so tired that she fell asleep relatively quickly. 

The morning light woke her early, and Sam had already been up and was dressed in his Fed suit. He gave her some time to put herself together and get dressed in the pantsuit she had bought last time she accompanied Sam on that Djinn hunt when Charlie had visited. She was a little timid when they were speaking with the police, letting Sam do all the talking so she didn’t draw any suspicions that they weren’t who they claimed to be, but when they got around to talking to the witnesses, she found it a lot easier to talk freely. 

They learned that all the sick kids had recently been on a camping trip at Clayton Lake for a friend’s birthday party, leading Sam to believe that they were dealing with some sort of spirit rather than a Shtriga. He still hadn’t ruled out an Acheri, a demon that often took the form of a child, but since none of the kids or adults that had camped out that night had been violently attacked, he was sure he was going to rule that out too.

After grabbing lunch at a little barbecue joint on the way back into town, Sam and Jessica went over all the clues they had dug up that morning and researched any lore they could find surrounding the lake and campgrounds. It seemed they _were_ dealing with a ghost; a little girl who had died of heat stroke back in the late 60’s when she got separated from her parents on a camping trip. The symptoms the kids were showing now made sense: fever, nausea, flushed skin, and labored breathing. They, however, had not shown these symptoms on the trip itself but several days later when they had returned home. None of them exposed to the extreme heat that would cause such problems.

“Why would this little girl attack these children?” Jessica asked, “I mean it was probably an accident that happened to her. Why would she want to make others sick?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, “Maybe she’s trying to warn the parents, you know, to keep a better eye on their kids?”

“Okay, but they were on a camping trip, adults were present, it’s not like they were being neglected,” Jessica countered.

“Sometimes ghosts don’t see things the way we do. When they’ve been in the veil for too long they lose the ability to think rationally,” Sam explained, “It’s possible that the spirit doesn’t even know that she’s doing it. She was a just a kid when she died.”

A sudden sadness filled Jessica’s heart. “So what do we do? I mean, if it’s not her fault and she’s just a lost little girl, we can’t just kill her or whatever happens to ghosts when you get rid of them.”

“She’s hurting other kids, living kids that are just as innocent,” Sam reasoned, “We have to stop her.” He searched the girl’s name and found the obituary. “Luckily, she’s buried in the cemetery outside town. It’ll be just a quick salt and burn. We’ll go after dark.” Sam slammed the laptop shut and walked to the mini-fridge to grab a beer. “You want one?” he offered.

Jessica shook her head. “No thanks. Wait, did you say we? _We’ll_ go after dark?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, taking a swig of his beer, “it’s just a routine salt and burn. You can help with that!”

“So, we’re going to dig up a little girl’s grave?” Jessica’s face went pale. 

“Hunters do it all the time. It’s part of the job,” His face softened when he noticed how uneasy she looked, “Look if it makes you uncomfortable, I can do it myself. It would just be faster if I had help.”

“Well, way to guilt me into it Sam!” Jessica responded.

“I’m not trying to…”

“No!” she cut him off, never one to back down from a challenge, “I’ll do it! I might puke when we open the coffin, but I’ll do it.”

Sam squeezed her shoulder, “You’ll be fine. Besides, you’re always complaining about being sidelined. This is a good, easy start to see if you can handle the hunting life.”

Jessica grumbled, “I was kind of content with just doing your laundry and making pie for your…” She trailed off when she realized what she was about to say. “Alright, well, if I’m doing all that manual labor later, then I’m taking a nap now.”

Sam laughed at that. “You go ahead, I’m just going to see if I can find any leads on Gadreel.”

When Jessica woke up the sun was fully down and Sam had already packed up the car. He looked agitated. “Hey, everything okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yeah, we just have to have to get on the road quick after we’re done.” Sam said distractedly, “I think I may have stumbled upon a lead on Garth.”

“Garth?” Jessica confirmed, “Where?”

“Wisconsin,” Sam replied, “in a hospital. He was hit by a car.”

“Oh my God! Is he okay? Alive?”

“Yeah, you ready to do this? I think we’re gonna have to head straight up to Wisconsin when where done, so it’s probably good you took a nap.”

Jessica straightened herself up, changing into her jeans and tee-shirt from the day before and pulling her hair back into a ponytail as she simultaneously tossed her belongings into her bag. It only took a few minutes, and Sam held the door open for her as she stepped out into the warm night air. With her bag tossed into the back seat, Jessica climbed into the car next to Sam and they drove the few miles to the Clayton Cemetery. 

It only took a few minutes to locate the little girl’s grave, and luckily it was tucked towards the back recesses of the graveyard; less chance of being discovered as they dug it up. Sam handed Jessica a shovel, and with a deep breath she got to work helping him dig. It was way harder than they had made it look on TV. They hadn’t even dug halfway down before she was out of breath and sweating profusely. “You didn’t tell me how glamourous this was going to be,” Jessica said sarcastically between her wheezing.

Sam chuckled at her, “This is the easy part of hunting.” He kept shoveling dirt over his shoulder.

But something made Jessica stop, and it wasn’t that she was out of breath. Her heart _was_ racing though. “Um…Sam?” she said shakily.

“You can take a break if you want,” he replied without distracting himself from his task.

“Sam!” she raised the alarm more fully, “Watch out!”

A screeching white misty figure of a little girl sent Sam flying up and out of the hole they had created and he landed with a solid thump on the ground surrounding the grave. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Jessica exclaimed as she scrambled to get a foothold to climb out of the grave herself, her petite little legs and arms limiting her reach. When she managed to pull herself out, she could see Sam struggling under the weight of the supernaturally strong spirit. Her eyes darted around until she located the tin gas can filled with rock salt, and she sprinted to it, almost tripping clumsily over her own feet before reaching it. She whirled around and fumbled the cap open before swinging the can wildly towards Sam’s position. A stream of salt arched through the air, cutting a swath through the spirit, making her dissipate.

Sam sat up, winded from the struggle, his flushed face slowly turning back to its normal coloring, “Thanks!” He took her offer for help and grabbed her hand to help hoist himself back up to his feet. “That was some quick thinking there. You might be hunter material after all.” He half smiled. “We’d better get this finished fast.” Climbing back down into the hole, he turned and offered Jessica a hand to return the favor.

With a deep sigh, Jessica sat down on the edge of the grave and pushed off to jump back down into the dirt, but Sam grabbed her by the waist and softened the impact. She wasn’t used to this much physical exertion and adrenaline, so she wobbled a bit on her feet. Sam held onto her to let her get her bearings, his hands warm around her waist. For a just the briefest of moments, he stared down at her softly. “You okay?” he checked in. When she nodded, he removed his hands and cleared his throat and took up the shovel again. “Let’s get this done,” he said, shoving the scoop down deep into the earth below his feet. It wasn’t long before the blade hit the solid wood of the coffin underneath. 

Jessica wiped sweat from her brow and helped Sam wretch open the lid to reveal a musty smelling set of small bones. She gagged a little.

“Here,” Sam said with a smirk, “let me help you out. Why don’t you go get the salt and lighter fluid ready, while I finish opening this up?”

She agreed whole-heartedly. She wanted out of that hole and away from the rotted corpse.

Sam held his hands down for her to step up on and hoisted her up to the surface. He heard her footfalls walking away from the grave and bent over to open up the bottom half of the coffin. With his long arms, he pulled himself up from the pit they dug just in time to see the little girl’s ghost ambushing Jessica from behind. “Look out!” he alerted her, but not in time. As Jessica turned toward the spirit with wide eyes, she was tossed violently into a nearby tombstone. Sam quickly grabbed the lighter fluid, squirting it liberally into the open grave and then dumped a shit ton of salt across the bones. He lit a match and dropped it in, watching the spirit realize what was happening as it was consumed by phantom flames.

With the spirit flamed out, he ran over to where Jessica lay dizzy beneath the stone marker she had hit. He helped her sit up, trying to check her over for any injuries. “Are you alright?” he asked concerned. He had told her he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

Jessica grit her teeth in pain and held her head where it had made impact with the tombstone. “I think,” she said weakly. It hurt pretty badly, but it wasn’t as bad as the time she had tangled with a Greek God, so there was that. When she pulled her hand away, there was blood running down her fingers.

“Okay, you’re bleeding a lot,” Sam grimaced, “Let me look at it.” He bent down to her and pushed some stray hair off of her forehead. There was a pretty clean cut running from her hairline to just above her eyebrow on the right side, but it didn’t look too deep. “Hey, can you look at me? Focus on my eyes,” he demanded. She did as he asked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” Jessica breathed out correctly.

“Alright, I don’t think you have a concussion,” Sam declared, “but let’s get back to the car so I can patch you up a bit before we hit the road. C’mon.” He stood and grabbed her by the elbow to help her to her feet again. They packed up their stuff and Jessica leaned into him slightly as they walked back to the car.

She was a little unsteady on her feet still, probably more from the exhaustion than the head injury. She hoped anyway.

Jessica sat in the passenger seat with her legs hanging out of the door while Sam packed everything up. When he returned to her, he had a first aid kit in his hands. With some soft gauze, he tenderly soaked up the excess blood from around her cut, and cleaned the wound with some antiseptic, which caused her to suck in air between her teeth at the sting. “Sorry,” he said, as he continued to clean her up. She was still oozing a bit of blood, so he folded up some more gauze and taped it in place to let it clot. “There, good as new.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Yeah I’ll bet.”

Packing the kit back up, Sam waited for her to swing her legs back into the car before closing the door for her. Then he tossed the first aid box into the back seat before making his way around to the driver’s side. It was only a few turns to hit the highway back out of town.

“You can sleep if you want,” Sam offered, “It’s gonna be a long haul to Wisconsin.”

Jessica smiled at him lazily. “Sam? I think I just wanna go home. I don’t think I’m cut out for this hunting thing.”

“What do you mean? You did great back there!” he encouraged her, “You actually have pretty good instincts!”

“Clearly,” Jessica sassed, pointing to the bandage on her head.

Sam looked over at her for a second before returning his eyes to the road in front of him. She looked drained. “Alright, I’ll swing by the bunker on the way and drop you off. But I mean it, Jess, you did some good work out there for your first real hunt.”

“Thanks, Sam,” she replied, “but I think I’m gonna leave the ghosts and monsters to the professionals from now on.”


	19. "I Don't Want to Tie You Down"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I just thought I'd take a minute to thank all of you that are reading this once again for all the kudos, comments, and bookmarks. I love getting all the feedback, because this story is really special to me. I'm just having so much fun writing it! Although I have a basic outline for the plot, sometimes the characters just suddenly have a mind of their own and things I originally planned get changed up and whatnot, so it's been really fun seeing where it all leads. That being said, I have some really good chapters (in my humble opinion) coming your way soon and the relationships are really starting to develop even more. Maybe not always in a positive way, but developing nonetheless.
> 
> ****SHOW SPOILERS AHEAD**** Skip over the rest of this note and go right to the chapter if you haven't watched the series return episode yet!
> 
> Can I just say how much I care about my characters that I was genuinely jealous of that wood nymph that was taking care of my boys this past episode? She was doing all the things that I see Jessica doing! I was like, back off! LOL. Anyway, I thought the episode was great, if not bitter sweet. I'm just not ready for this ride to end! Thank goodness for fanfic! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Dean sat at the table in the Men of Letter’s galley, his weary eyes trained on the multiple databases running code on the screen in front of him. He wasn’t really paying any attention to the output running past his vision though. Instead he was playing out his homecoming from the evening before; the way Jessica’s face lit up when she saw him come down the stairs, the way she ran to him and embraced him and refused to let go, so that he had to physically pry her off of him after it started to feel awkward, the concern he felt when he saw the medical gauze taped to her delicate forehead. He was so angry when he found out that Sam had taken her on a hunt. But things were already strained between him and his brother, so he begrudgingly let it go for the moment.

“Hey,” Sam sighed as he came gangling into the room hoping there was coffee made.

It broke Dean out of his rumination. “Hey,” Dean sighed back, a little more fatigued than his brother’s earlier sigh. He wiped his red-rimmed eyes as they began to water from staring so intensely at the laptop all morning.

Sam turned to look at him, just noticing how bad Dean really looked. “You go to bed last night?” he quizzed as he walked toward the shelf where they kept the coffee mugs.

“What?” Dean responded, as if his brother had been accusing him of something. They hadn’t exactly made up yet, and Sam had made it perfectly clear that they were to keep things strictly business between them, no brotherly love there. He shook it off, showing no emotion was something he was good at. “Uh, no,” his voice full of gravel, he cleared his throat, “no _Rudy_ was on, and then uh, _Unforgiven_ and then I was just too jacked to sleep so…research.” He took a slug of the whiskey he had been drinking for breakfast. Actually, he had been drinking it most of the night, which was evident by the empty bottle that only eight hours ago was unopened. It was true that he had his favorite movies to keep him company all night, but they weren’t the true reason why he hadn’t slept and had downed an entire bottle of Wenzel’s Rye, his five o’clock shadow looking more like seventy-two-hour shadow. His sleep deprivation was due more so to the conversation he had with Jessica the night before.

_After unpacking, Dean had sat down with his brother and Jess to have a quick meal. She had made spaghetti, something quick and easy and better yet comforting, for his unexpected homecoming. Sam kept his head down and ate silently for the most part. The tension between the two brothers was thick and it didn’t escape Jessica’s keen observation. Dean was thankful she didn’t mention it, even though he knew she could tell something was off between the two of them. Instead, she asked questions. Where had Dean been? What had he been doing? Dean answered them with as little detail as possible, not wanting to get into all of it, but she persisted. “We can talk about it later,” he had brushed her off, “Why don’t you tell me about this hunt that my brother thought was a good idea to take you on?”_

_"Dean?” Sam complained, not wanting to get into it with him at the moment._

_Dean put his hand up and shrugged, “Sorry, I forgot. We aren’t supposed to be brothers.”_

_“What are you talking about?” Jessica squinted suspiciously at the two of them._

_Rolling his eyes, Dean changed the subject, “Nevermind. What happened on the hunt?”_

_Jessica gave him the basic rundown of where they went, what they discovered, and how it went down. Dean listened with a straight face, trying to hide the fact that she looked adorable when her face lit up at the highlights of her story. It had been a simple salt and burn, and from the way she was telling it, the danger had been pretty limited until they had run into the spirit in the graveyard. He didn’t like that she had gotten hurt, but it could have been much worse. Sam even interjected and said how good she did under pressure. Dean let the corner of his mouth turn up in a proud smile for just a split second. He hoped she didn’t see it, didn’t want to encourage her to go on more adventures with the Winchesters._

_After dinner, Dean helped Jessica wash the dishes, and then insisted on taking a look at her wound. Jess resisted for a second, saying she was fine, that Sam had already looked at it, but Dean wanted to make sure she was alright. He grabbed a med kit from the infirmary and met her in her room. They sat on the end of her bed, side by side and she gingerly pulled at the first aid tape that held the gauze to her skin. She winced a bit._

_“Does it still hurt?” Dean asked concerned, looking at the angry red gash painted in a thin line above her brow. The skin around it was bluish-purple, the sign of a fresh contusion. He ran his finger alongside it gently and her face scrunched up again. He stopped touching it._

_“It’s just a little tender still. Who knew tombstones were so solid?” she joked._

_He smirked at her, “It could be worse. It’ll heal, doesn’t look infected or anything.” He took out the small bottle of antiseptic and unscrewed the cap, pressing a cotton ball to the lip of the bottle and turning it upside down for a second to saturate the white fluff. “This is gonna sting,” he warned._

_"Do we have to? Sam already disinfected it the other day. I’ve been keeping it clean.” She backed up a bit._

_"Don’t be a baby,” he goaded her and pressed it down to the surface, stroking the cut with the liquid soaked cotton. He smirked as she tried so hard to grit past the pain. He knew exactly how to press her buttons. She always tried to put on a tough façade when she was challenged. It was cute. “You should do that everyday until the cut scabs over fully. Just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” Dean placed another small square gauze pad over the cut and taped it back down with fresh tape._

_“What happened to your arm?” Jessica suddenly shifted focus._

_She was staring down at The Mark. Dean took a deep breath and rolled his sleeve down to cover it. “It’s nothing,” he lied._

_“Hey you’re not the only one who gets to play doctor,” she announced, “Let me see it!”_

_Dean smiled, he couldn’t help himself, “Slow down there, sweetheart, we’ve got all night.”_

_Jessica realized what she said could be taken as a double entendre and blushed profusely. “I just…I meant…” she stumbled, “Just…can I see?” She really needed to stop talking. She only dug herself in deeper. When Dean flirted she clearly turned into a babbling idiot._

_Reluctantly, Dean rolled his sleeve back up and held out his forearm. The deep crimson shape puffed up ever so slightly from the surface of his skin._

_Jessica grabbed his arm and yanked it towards her forcefully to examine it._

_“Ow,” Dean complained, “easy!”_

_“Who’s the baby now?” Jess taunted with satisfaction. She ran her thumb over the raised surface. It was clearly not just a burn or brand. It was in a weird shape, some kind of symbol. What had he gotten himself into now? “What is it?”_

_“The Mark of Cain,” he replied seriously, “Like the Biblical Mark of Cain.”_

_She looked at him panicked, “What does that mean?_

_“It means I can kill Abaddon now,” Dean replied, trying not to make it into a big deal._

_Jessica ran her thumb over it again. “Does it hurt?”_

_“It did when he gave it to me,” Dean replied, “but I don’t even really feel it now.”_

_“When who gave it to you?”_

_“Cain,” he answered matter-of-factly, like it was not strange in the least._

_She looked up at him in surprise, “Hold up, you met Cain, like the real Cain? Cain and Able, Cain?”_

_“Yeah, it was this whole thing with Crowley. He trained the Knights of Hell, only the mark and the blade he used to kill his brother can kill them.”_

_“Dean, this doesn’t sound right…” she hedged, concerned._

_He pulled his arm away, rolling his sleeve down to cover The Mark once again. “All I care about is killing Abaddon, then Gadreel. If this is what helps me do it, then it’s what needs to be done.”_

_“Just promise me you’ll be careful?” she asked, “These things never_ not _have consequences.”_

_It was the truth. What were the odds that he would come out of this unscathed? But it was a necessary evil._

_“I’m just glad your back,” Jessica smiled up at him, “It was awful without you.”_

_Dean_ _shifted his weight, uncomfortable talking about feelings. Truthfully, he had felt the same way without her. While he was gone, he woke up every morning thinking about her, and went to bed every night doing the same. The words she left him with that night on the dock had echoed over and over in his head: “I love you.” The thing was, he wanted to tell her he felt the same, but how could he? He was always in some mess, and one way or another she would be dragged into it. It was better to keep things friendly. No need in hurting her any more than he had to. And he knew he was going to have to._

_Jessica looked up at him earnestly, her countenance softening, serious, her eyes shining up at him filled with hope. She reached her hand up to his cheek, and he let it linger there for a moment, enjoying the warmth of her touch. But when she leaned in to kiss him, he swallowed the lump in his throat and backed away, gently pulling her hand away from his face. “Jess, we can’t,” he said softly. He opened his eyes, he didn’t even realize he had closed them, and looked back at her with regret, but determination in his heart. There was no way he was going to drag her down into the mud with him. “You don’t want to be with me.”_

_“Yes, I do,” she insisted. God he was so self-deprecating. How could he not understand why she would want him? “I love you, Dean. I think maybe I always have, even before I really knew you, before I even knew you were real.”_

_Dean shook his head. “That’s not even possible.”_

_“Yes it is! I know because I feel it,” she continued, “and I think that maybe, you might…I just need to know, if you feel it too?”_

_His mouth went dry, his heart bottomed out, and his breath suffocated in his lungs. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to kiss her and hold her, make love to her, but he couldn’t do any of those things. Instead he had to hurt her, had to make it clear that they couldn’t have what they clearly both wanted. Instead, he said, “I don’t.”_

“Gadreel?” Sam asked.

Dean swallowed the whiskey down, letting it burn. “Yeah and Metatron and uh, the Mark of Cain…crickets!” He allowed himself one more moment of self-pity, but then he shook it off. He didn’t want to be opening up to Sam about things right now. “I did find us a case though!”

Sam perked up and turned toward him, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dean continued, “it’s a strange death in Stillwater, Minnesota. Competitive eater died after a hot dog eating contest.”

With a look of incredulity, Sam put down his coffee and a bowl to fill with the Corn Flakes that were sitting on the table, and walked to the refrigerator to grab the milk, an air of dismissiveness to Dean’s case. “So what, death by tubesteak?”

“If only…he got attacked in his car. But uh, get this! He shrunk from three hundred pounds to ninety pounds.”

With his curiosity now peaked, Sam made his way back to the table with the bottle of milk. “Witchcraft?” he asked.

Dean shook his head, “Or a heavy duty laxative. You game?” He wouldn’t look at his brother.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, sitting down to eat his breakfast.

“Good!” Dean exclaimed, getting up from the table just as fast as Sam had sat down. No need to prolong the awkwardness. “Looks like it’s a whore’s bath for me. I’ll be ready in five.” He headed in the direction of the nearest exit with haste.

“You sure you’re okay, Dean?” Sam turned around to him. He could clearly see that something was up.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Was Sam actually showing concern? Wasn’t that against the new rules? “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Cause, I don’t know. This isn’t about what I said the other day, is it?”

Faux confusion spattered across Dean’s face for a moment. He knew exactly what Sam was referring to, but he didn’t want to let up that it had in fact bothered him. “Oh about the, ‘we’re not supposed to be brothers’? No, don’t flatter yourself. I don’t break that easy.” _Plaster on a smile so it looks like you weren’t incredibly hurt by it,_ he thought.

Sam nodded back at him, “Well good, cause I was just being honest.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean said turning and walking away quickly, “no I got that loud and clear.”

With a look of consternation, Sam turned back to his breakfast. Something was clearly up with his brother, and he wasn’t entirely sure it was just about what went down between them.

Sam finished his breakfast and packed his gear. He didn’t know if Dean had told Jessica they were headed out so he figured he’d poke his head in on her. Come to think of it, it was odd that he hadn’t seen her at all that morning. He figured she’d be by Dean’s side 24/7 since she had been so downtrodden about him leaving. Now that she had him back he figured she wouldn’t let him out of her sight. He made his way down the hall to her room. Her door was shut, so he knocked lightly. “Jess, you in there?” There was no response, but he thought he heard her stirring around inside. He pressed his ear to the door and called again, “Hey, Dean and I are headed out on a hunt. Just wanted to let you know.” She still didn’t answer him, but he now clearly heard her crying through the door. What was going on? “Jess, I’m coming in okay?” he warned, before turning the knob and walking in to find her curled up in her bed sniffling and hiding her face in her pillow. He walked over to her, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed and placing a consoling hand on her shoulder, “Hey, what’s the matter?” Still no answer, she just turned her head in the opposite direction. “What happened? Why are you crying?” Sam probed. Jessica mumbled something in her pillow. “What?” he asked, unable to make out what she said.

“Hey, Sam,” he heard Dean call from down the hall and he felt Jessica flinch under his touch. 

“I’m fine,” Jessica finally pulled her face away from the pillow and spoke clearly. Forcibly wiping the tears away with the palms of her hands, she sat up and hugged her knees, pulling away from Sam.

“Sam where are you?” Dean’s voice closed in and soon he was standing in the doorway. He surveyed the scene in front of him. “What’s going on?” he asked, noticing how Jessica had turned away from them.

“I don’t know, she’s upset,” Sam shrugged.

Dean stood there, crestfallen. He knew why she was upset. Hell, he was the one who caused it. The night before he had hightailed it out of there before he could see this, afraid it might crumble his resolve if he saw her cry.

A wave of uneasy silence crashed over the room. Sam looked from Jessica to Dean, who was averting his eyes away from her too. She seemed to shrink farther away from where his brother stood in the doorway. Something had happened between them, he just didn’t know what. Before he could puzzle it out, Jessica spoke again.

“Don’t you guys have a case to work? Just get going. I’m fine,” the tremble in her voice betraying her lie.

“If you need us here, Jess, we can stay,” Sam offered, “We can call some other hunters…”

“She said she’s fine, Sam,” Dean interrupted, although he still wasn’t able to make eye contact with either of them, “Jess? You’ll be okay without us right?”

A stray sniffle, another wipe of a tear, and she plastered on her best fake smile and turned to them. “I’m fine, just go.” She said the words aloud, but when she saw Dean’s face she had to turn away again. Her tears were about to betray her once more. “Go!” she practically shouted.

Sam stood up and made his way to the door. “Aright, but we’ll call and check on you later okay?” He felt bad leaving her like this, but it was clearly another of Dean’s messes and he was going to have to be the one to clean it up. Pushing his way past, he left his brother in the doorway and headed to the car, leaving them to have whatever moment they clearly needed.

Dean waited until Sam turned the corner into the next hall, and looked back over towards Jessica. Her back was still turned to him, hunched in on herself, and it looked like she was quivering. Quietly, he shut the door and walked over to her. “Hey,” he said, startling her from being so close, “are you alright? Really?” He waited for a reply but didn’t get one. “Hey!” he said more forcefully, “Look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, she forced herself to turn towards him. Concern showed on his face, and that only made it hurt more.

“C’mere,” he requested, hoping she would stand up, but she tried to turn away again. “Jess, c’mon,” this time he tugged gently on her arm and like a ragdoll she let him pull her to her feet and into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her there. Her body stiff like she was trying so hard not to lose it again. A sudden shudder ran through her and the floodgates finally opened up. This was exactly what he didn’t want to witness. It was necessary to break her heart, but he didn’t want to have to see it. At the same time, he couldn’t let her go. Leaving her here while he and Sam went out on a hunt was going to be the hardest thing he ever had to do. This was his fault, and he couldn’t even stay there to help pick up the pieces. Remorseful of what he did, what he kept telling himself had to be done, he craned his neck down and placed a kiss on top of her head. “Listen, I’ve gotta get going, but we’ll talk some more when I get back okay? Maybe we can train a little? It’s been awhile since you’ve tried to kick my ass, and honestly, I kinda think I deserve it right now.” He felt her nod just a little, and chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’s a yes to us talking or kicking my ass,” he joked.

She pulled away from him and finally looked up at him, her tear-stained cheeks shining under the overhead light. “Just go,” she said weakly, “we’ll talk when you get back.”

Dean tried to smile at her, but the devastation of his words showed clearly on her face and it made it impossible. With a quick kiss to her forehead, he turned and grabbed the bag he had dropped at her door, and walked out of the room without turning back.

*****

It took all day to get to the sleepy little town of Stillwater, Minnesota and by the time they had pulled into the parking lot of the Stillwater Inn, just a few blocks off the river, the Winchester boys were dead tired. There wasn’t much they could do to start the case at this time of night anyway, so they agreed to pick up the case first thing in the morning. Turns out that might not have been such a great idea, since the two of them were so at odds, that sitting in the motel room with nothing else to focus on but the tension between them, only made things more uncomfortable. 

Dean kept checking his phone to see if Jessica had called or texted. He didn’t think that she would, but he was worried about leaving her all alone in the bunker after seeing her so upset. Sam had brought it up in the car earlier, but Dean brushed it off. It was none of his business, you know since they weren’t supposed to be brotherly and all. Now Dean couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not that that was any different from any other night. He found himself always thinking about her in the quite moments. Even when he was away on his extended leave from the bunker, she was always there in the stillness. Her face, wet with tears was the image that was currently being displayed in front of his mind’s eye. God how he just wished he could have done things differently! If he could have said different words, let her down easier, but he knew it had to be blunt, to-the-point. No sense in mincing words and leaving any room for hope that they could ever be anything but friends. 

A memory from the day they took Dorothy’s Indian Junior Scout for a ride suddenly resurfaced. That day was one of the best days he had in a long while. There were no monsters, no blood, nothing but the wind on his face and the warmth of his girl’s embrace, her arms wrapped snugly around his torso as they rode along the dusty backroads. _His girl?_ Could he even think of her that way? No, not after he hurt her so badly. Not after he broke the heart he wanted nothing more than to protect. He wasn’t good enough to even presume she could be his. 

Dean scrolled through his contacts until her name came up. His thumb hovered over the button. They said they would call her to check in, he could use that as an excuse to call! He hit the home button instead and put the phone into the front pocket of his jeans, stretching his back out as he stood up and grabbed his keys.

"Where are you going?” Sam said, looking up from his laptop.

“I’m gonna head down to that bar we saw on the way in and grab a burger and a beer,” he replied, “You wanna come?”

Sam shook his head, “No, I’m good. Just don’t forget we gotta start early in the morning.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean sighed. As much as he was grateful to have a case to work as a distraction from all the other shit that was screwing up his life, he wasn’t entirely ready to for the up and at ‘em legwork they still had to do. He would rather get straight to the killing. A slight twinge seemed to radiate through his right forearm, and he paused to press down on The Mark that was hidden underneath the sleeve of his flannel shirt. 

“Something wrong?” Sam asked, trying not to sound too interested. 

“What? No!” And with that, Dean walked out of the motel room and shut the door firmly behind him.

With Dean out of the room, Sam let out a long sigh of relief. It was so hard to be around him lately. He couldn’t deal with all the guilt-ridden angst and martyrdom that his brother was always dragging around with him everywhere, and he was still so angry with him for what he had done. Dean always acted like he was the only one that could choose the right course, any other path for anyone, including himself, was wrong or couldn’t be trusted. But Sam knew that it was Dean’s insecurities more than anything else that made him act that way. That underneath all his bluster, Dean was just as scared and confused as everyone else. It was fear that made him choose to ignore what was right for everyone else, and do the thing that felt safe for him. He made the choices he did to protect himself, no matter how much it destroyed those around him.

Sam had tried to get Dean to talk about what went down with him and Jessica that seemed to make her so upset, but of course his brother brushed him off. Knowing how Jessica felt about his idiot brother, it wasn’t hard to figure out. More than likely, Dean had given her the old “hunter’s can’t have relationships” speech. That was the only thing that could explain the drastic turn around in Jessica’s mood. The way her face, her whole being lit up when Dean had come home, suddenly crumbling into the puddle of tears they left her in was a clear indication of that. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she was much younger than they were, still only in her early twenties, and definitely not of this universe. Where she was from there were no monsters, no hunters, no end times threatening her daily life. It was easy to see how she wouldn’t understand how dangerous it could be for her to get involved with a hunter. His brother wasn’t wrong about not getting involved, but Sam only hoped that Dean had been gentle about it. 

Now that Dean had stepped out, Sam figured he had better check in on her. He picked up his cell and pressed the button for her contact. It rang for a minute, almost as if she wasn’t going to pick up, but then her voice came over the line.

“Hey,” she said softly. It sounded as if she had cried all day and was now too weak to continue. As if she had nothing left in her.

“It’s Sam,” he announced.

There was a pause, “I mean, I kinda figured when the name ‘Sam’ came up on my screen.”

Alright, well at least she still had her sarcasm. “I just wanted to check in, see if you were feeling any better?” Sam asked.

“I’ll be fine,” she said flatly, without an ounce of emotion, “I’m just really tired now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he hedged.

Another pregnant pause.

“Not really,” Jessica sighed, “There’s not much to talk about. I told your brother I loved him, and he told me no chance in Hell.”

Sam was appalled! “Jesus, did he say it like that?” He didn’t think very highly of his brother at the moment, but surely he wouldn’t say that to her!

“No, but he might as well have,” she continued, “Honestly, I don’t know why I was so surprised. I’m not really his type.”

Okay? He’d bite. “What do you think is his type?” Dean only had one type, and it was _willing_.

“Tall, beautiful, gone in the morning…everything I’m not!”

Well, she may have had the last one right anyway, but he knew his brother. The way he was so protective of her, the way they verbally sparred with each other all the time, the wayward glances when he knew she wasn’t paying attention. Dean was just as into Jessica as she was into him. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate her feelings for him, it was that he was doing what he always did: bottle up his feelings and act like he was above it. Again, Sam didn’t disagree with the fact that getting into a relationship with Jessica wasn’t the greatest of ideas. It would only put her in more danger than she already was, but she had another thing coming if she thought there was something wrong with her.

“You know that’s not true, right?” Sam asked. “Okay, so you aren’t tall,” he quipped, “but you _are_ beautiful! And if you think that’s the reason Dean said he wasn’t into a relationship, than you are dead wrong.”

“He didn’t say he wasn’t into a relationship, Sam. He said he didn’t love me,” she pouted.

Of course he did. Why would his brother ever tell her the truth? “You know that’s a lie right? Jessica, he’s just trying to keep you safe. Hunting is dangerous, and everyone in our lives gets hurt or dies. He just doesn’t want to see that happen to you!”

“I’m already in his life! It’s not that. He just…”she quieted down again, “he just doesn’t love me, and I guess I just have to accept that.”

She couldn’t be farther from the truth, but there was seemingly no convincing her. It would probably be better if she did manage to get past it and forget about any romantic feelings she had for Dean. She would be better off.

“Look, it’s getting late, Sam. I’m just going to get some sleep. Do you need anything for the case?”

“No, we’re good,” Sam replied, “Take care of yourself while we’re gone, okay? Don’t just sit around sulking and making yourself miserable.”

They said their goodbye and hung up the phone. Sam wished he could somehow make her feel better. He just didn’t know what to do.

*****

A big blob of ketchup oozed out from between the buns as Dean took a huge chunk out of the double bacon cheese burger in front of him. It dripped just shy of the edge of the table, luckily hitting the wooden bar top instead of his jeans. He wiped his mouth absent-mindedly as he chewed and finished the burger in a few more big bites. When he finished chewing his last chunk of beef and cheese, he washed it down with a long swig of beer, finishing his second pint. “Another one,” Dean signaled the bartender, who nodded and poured him another draft, replacing the empty glass with a fresh one. Another slug went down easy, and he leaned into the bar and glued his eyes to the TV above the shelves of liquor. Some old episodes of _The Andy Griffith Show_ were playing. Maybe some mindless entertainment would get his mind off of her. 

“Hey can I get another martini please, dirty!” a sweet voice arose to his right.

Dean glanced over to see a pretty blond, her hair falling down in gently waves over her bare shoulders. She had a sparkly halter top on, and well-fitting jeans. Her nails were painted a pale purple and she was smiling from ear to ear. Her eyes lit up when she noticed him staring at her. “A martini is a pretty classy drink for this joint,” he commented.

She smiled back at him, “Well I’m celebrating! Besides, I ordered it dirty.”

Dean chuckled, “Well I guess that’s something. What are you celebrating?”

“It’s my birthday! I’m here with some of my friends,” she responded, keeping the conversation going.

This was an easy one. Once Dean got a girl talking, it wasn’t hard to transition into a hook up, especially a party girl like herself. _This_ could be the thing he needed to get his mind off of everything! “So how old are you today? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?” he asked. He knew she wasn’t.

She giggled, flattered, “That’s so sweet of you!” She casually touched his arm. “Can you believe it is the big 3-0!”

“Really?” he continued to turn on the charm, “You know I like a woman in her thirties. They’re confident, know what they want, but they still know how to have fun!” Dean crooked up his lips in a sexy smile and gave her a wink. She was turning into putty in his hands.

“You should come join the party!” she offered, tucking her hair behind her ear and blushing slightly.

Dean swiveled on his stool to face her, his knees just shy of her hips. He looked into her eyes for a long moment. “How about you and I just do a little celebrating of our own?” This was the moment it could go either way. She would either be receptive to his advances, or she would be offended he would ever think she would give up her honor to some bum hitting on her in a bar.

She glanced over her shoulder at her friends, who were all staring at them wide-eyed and mouthing “He’s hot!” and “Oh my god!” as if they were hungry jackals salivating over their next meal. When she glanced back she suddenly got shy, “I don’t know. I mean I shouldn’t leave my friends.” There went another strand of hair behind her other ear.

He leaned in slightly, “We don’t have to go far. My car’s parked out back.” He could hear her breath pick up slightly.

The girl chewed on her bottom lip, thinking it over.

“I mean, I get it if you want to just have your party with your friends,” he offered a little reverse psychology. Dean turned back to face the bar, and added just a hint of rejection.

“No!” she grabbed his arm again, afraid to lose out on his offer. “We can go outside for a little while. I could use some fresh air anyway.” She smiled at him.

It was like shooting fish in a barrel. If there was one thing besides hunting that Dean Winchester was an expert on, it was charming women. He downed the rest of his beer in three big gulps and tossed some money on the counter for the bartender. Standing up and placing a hand on her lower back, he said, “Well let’s go have some fun then.” 

As they walked out of the bar, Dean could hear the squeals of delight coming from the far corner where her friends were watching in awe as she walked out the door with him. After pulling his keys out from his front pocket, he reached over and grabbed her hand to guide her towards his car. Judging by the way she intertwined her fingers with his, she was feeling more confident about their encounter. There was one of two ways he could play this, either open the passenger side door for her to slip into the front seat, play some tunes, make out for a bit to see where it might lead, or be bold and head straight to the back seat. Looking over at her she smiled coyly. Maybe it would be best to test the waters first. When they reached the car, Dean ran his hands up and down her bare arms. “It’s a little chilly out here,” he said, “You sure you don’t want to go back inside?” She shook her head timidly. Dean bit his lip and then pressed her gently against the side of the Impala, closing the gap between their bodies. “You’re right. I think we can keep each other warm anyway.” _Easy, Dean_ , he thought, _play this right._ His lips moved in to hers tenderly, feeling her out for any hesitation, but she returned the kiss slightly more eager than he had expected. God it had been a long time! 

But had it really? It wasn’t long ago that Jessica’s lips were on his. He pulled away from the girl for a moment to shake off the thought. _Stop thinking about her_ , he chided himself internally.

“Everything okay?” the girl in front of him asked, clearly unsure if she did something wrong.

He smiled at her again, “Everything’s fine.” So bold it would be! Dean reached around her and unlocked the back door. He offered his hand to help her in and she gladly accepted.

It didn’t take long for things to start heating up once they got inside. The girl lay on her back looking up at him, hints of excitement and possibility filtering through her bright eyes as Dean climbed over her, caressing her skin and placing sweet kisses along her collar bone. Pressed up against her body, they kissed each other greedily for a minute, their hands groping each other’s bodies mindlessly. Dean pulled the strings of her halter from around her neck and slid the fabric up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and he sucked in air in awe of her bare breasts being offered to him. But there was a problem he wasn’t anticipating. He wasn’t getting hard.

_Okay, we can fix this_ , he thought as he pulled his own shirt up and over his head before leaning back down over her. He thumbed over her nipples and watched as she arched her back up in delight at the sensation. He took a deep breath and attacked her neck with his mouth, sucking little dark marks into her skin. When he closed his eyes, the image of Jessica sitting on her bed, crying flashed before him, making him stop what he was doing abruptly.

“What’s the matter?” the blonde underneath him asked. 

Dean tried to get his head right, but he couldn’t answer her. Instead, he just stared down at the girl breathing shallowly. He closed his eyes, already regretful at what he was about to say and do. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I can’t do this.” Grabbing his shirt off the floorboard where it had landed before, he pulled it back over his head and then handed the halter top back to her.

“I don’t understand?” she asked bewildered, self-consciously covering herself with the garment.

Wiping his hand over his face, Dean backed up and opened the back door to get out of the car. “This isn’t a good idea. I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

“What the hell?!” the girl turned angry, feeling embarrassed and rejected. 

Dean watched as she quickly put her top back on and climbed out of the car after him. He knew what was coming, and he didn’t move out of her way, because he knew he deserved it. His eyes closed at the sting of her slap and he apologized once more as she stormed away and back into the bar, no doubt to tell her friends was a jerk he was. With a heavy sigh, Dean got behind the wheel and sat quietly for a moment, before turning the key in the ignition and heading back to the motel.

*****

The next morning, Jessica woke up and shuffled around the bunker listlessly. Her heart still ached with the pain of Dean’s rejection. She ate a whole pint of ice cream for breakfast, put on every sad song she could find in her playlist, and took a nap only two hours after she woke up. It made her feel even worse and she didn’t think that was humanly possible. If she really thought about it, there was never much hope that Dean would return her feelings for him. Sam had told her that Dean was just trying to keep her safe, and she knew there was some truth to that. She just didn’t understand what the difference was between being his friend and being something more. Wasn’t she still in the same amount of danger? If Dean was worried about the bad guys using her to get to him, couldn’t they still do that just as effectively now whether they were together or not? Wouldn’t Dean do anything to save her regardless? She knew he would. 

Her heart felt heavy with the weight of the insane way the Winchesters avoided happiness at all costs. Dean had so much love to give, but he would never let himself. She had seen how he had cared for Lisa and Ben, but even through all that time he spent with them, he never really gave himself to Lisa completely. There were still lies, behind which had good intentions, but lies nonetheless. Jessica knew that she may not have been privy to all that went on in their lives just watching a television show in her own world, but she never remembered Dean telling Lisa that he loved her. He showed Lisa affection, but he never said it, not on screen anyway, and knowing him the way Jessica knew him now she was certain that he probably never had, just like he never would with her either because he would never let himself be loved. He didn’t think he deserved it.

Her phone buzzed just then. It was Sam sending her a text, but the preview was blank. She opened her messages and couldn’t help but laugh a little at the image before her. Dean was staring into the camera, his face surly and filled with annoyance, but the thing that made her smile was the fact that he was wearing a hair net. Another text came over from Sam.

SAM: The lunch lady says hi!

It made Jessica giggle. Whatever they were doing, Dean didn’t look happy about his getup. God she loved him so much! She even thought he looked sexy in that stupid hair net! Maybe she was looking at the situation all wrong. As much as she loved him, as much as it hurt that he would never feel the same, Dean was still a part of her life now. Maybe that was enough? She got to be someone that he cared for, part of the family. Was she being greedy wanting more? 

She typed back to Sam to make sure everything was going alright, and when he gave her confirmation they ended the text. They were safe, doing what they do best, and they would be home in a day or two and still in her life. With a long sigh, Jessica let her heart feel another stinging jolt, but this time it wasn’t as bad as before. It would heal. She had gone through this train of thought once before and apparently she let herself get lost again in the fantasy of possibility. But, her heart would heal from this and she could go on knowing the Dean Winchester was still her friend. And that would have to be enough.

The next day, the boys called and said they would be home later that night. Jessica picked herself up and got the place back in tip-top shape for their homecoming. She had to admit, after making the agreement with herself to just be happy that the Winchester’s were in her life, no matter what form that took, that her heart felt lighter. There was still a sadness for a love that would never be, and that was going to take some time before it went away. If she could just focus on the here and now, she could mend whatever awkwardness was certainly going to arise when Dean returned. He had said before he left that they would talk when he got back, and she was determined to make that happen. Only, she wasn’t going to let her heart take the lead. She was going to be appreciative of his friendship and let him know that he didn’t have to worry about her. All she wanted to do was get back to the days before she confessed her love for him, when they would joke around and watch dumb action flicks together and bicker like two cats fighting for territory. That was a relationship she could live with. That could be her happiness.

When the boys finally arrived, they arrived in one piece. Sam had a busted lip, but it was already scabbed over. She greeted them at the bottom of the stairs like she always did when they came home from a hunt, and she could tell by the way Dean was eyeing her that he was nervous about what state she might be in. Although she felt the sharp stab of pain in her chest, she smiled widely at him. “Where’s your hairnet, Marjorie?” she quipped. 

Dean frowned. “Man, you told her about that?” He slapped Sam’s shoulder. 

“Oh, no, he sent me a lovely picture,” Jessica teased him, holding up the phone to show Dean, “I’m gonna blow this up and frame this and hang it on the wall in the library. It’s like a museum piece. It needs to be shared!”

With lightning fast speed, Dean snatched the phone from her hand, “Ha, you’re hilarious! How are you gonna do that if I delete it?” He played keep away as Jessica tried to get it back.

“Hey c’mon, I mean it! I like that pic!” Jessica whined as she tried in vain to reach the phone. These Winchesters were way too tall for their own good! “Noooo,” she pouted, as Dean hit the delete button.

For a moment he felt kind of bad. She had been smiling and joking with him, a marked improvement from her mood when they had left for Minnesota, and now she was frowning and once again it was his fault. But then she smacked him playfully, like she used to when they would banter back and forth and took the phone back from him. 

“Jerk!” she jeered jokingly, and curled the corner of her mouth up in a smile. This was hard work, trying to be so happy while still trying to mend her broken heart, but it was worth it to see the smile on Dean’s face again. Maybe this meant they could truly get back to normal around each other. She would gladly give up her happiness for his. “Hey, so, you said we would talk when you got back,” Jessica changed the subject and got more serious. They still needed to talk, regardless of her new outlook, if only to clear the air.

Dean’s face fell. He was hoping he could avoid this since she seemed so happy. “Yeah, we can, but later,” he hedged, hoping to put it off a while longer, “I’m tired from the road, and I want to get a shower and some food in me first. Is that okay?”

She took a deep breath, “Yeah, of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.” She smiled again as best she could, but it was more labored this time. Dean was going to put this off as long as he could. He didn’t like talking about his feelings. But they really needed to talk, and she was going to hold him to it. In fact, she wasn’t going to sleep until they had it out. “I’ve got dinner taken care of,” Jess announced, “go grab your shower and I’ll have it ready in half an hour.”

“Thanks kidd…” he watched her frown again and corrected his nickname for her, “I mean, thanks sweetheart.” He shifted his duffel bag back up on his shoulder and walked past her towards his room.

Dean plopped the bag down on his bed and began unpacking. It was nice to see Jessica smiling again. Maybe he hadn’t done as much damage as he had thought? Still, she wanted to talk. Was he ready to talk about the idea of _them_ again? He was sure it would only lead to more heartache for her. As much as he wanted to concede, and he genuinely did, there was no way he could. Dean Winchester was a doomed soul. Between tangling with angels and Abaddon, bearing the Mark of Cain, hunting down Gadreel and Metatron, there was no way they were getting out of this mess unscathed, and he would be damned if he was going to drag her to Hell with him.

But what if they could beat it? What if he did kill Abaddon? What if they could defeat Metatron and every other evil son of a bitch that darkened their world? Dean let himself contemplate the notion that if all was right in the world, and he didn’t have to hunt anymore, then a relationship with someone was entirely feasible. He could tell Jessica how much he loved her. He could hold her hand and take her out on dates. They could kiss and share a bed. Maybe, they could even start a family of their own together one day. Uncle Sam and Uncle Cas could babysit while he and Jessica went on a weekend getaway. Dean chuckled to himself. Boy that would be a sight! On second thought, maybe Sam and Cas shouldn’t be left alone with his kid. What would they name their kid? Maybe John, after his father or Bobby, who was just as much a father to him as his real dad, maybe even more? But what if it was a girl; a little girl that Dean could dote on and protect and spoil? What would they name her? 

A pounding on his door shook him out of his fantasy. “Hey, Jess said dinner will be ready in ten!” Sam shouted through the door.

“Yeah alright!” Dean shouted back. The fantasy would have to wait. Reality was staring him in the face, and his reality looked grim. No sense in dreaming about a world where he got to be happy, at least not until it presented itself, and deep down Dean knew the chances were slim. He finished unpacking and putting his stuff away and then headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up before dinner.

*****

It was getting close to ten ‘o clock and Jessica and Dean still hadn’t had their talk. Conversation at dinner between the two of them and Sam was extra strained, mostly because the brothers were still at odds with each other as well. But Jess didn’t want to leave it for another day, because she knew the longer she and Dean waited to hash things out, the harder it would be, or it may just not even happen at all! She just didn’t want things to remain so awkward between them. If they could just get back to normal, she was sure it would be easier on her heart. 

Determined to clear the air, Jessica took a deep breath and mentally went over all the things she wanted to say to Dean. It was necessary to prepare because she didn’t want to mess things up even more, and when she was around him, everything in her body ramped up to a thousand! Her heart would surely race and her brain would stop computing properly. She couldn’t let her feelings for him get in the way of communicating, and more importantly, their friendship. When she was ready, Jessica made her way through the bunker to find him. He wasn’t in his room, so she walked down the corridor to the kitchen to check for him there, but stopped short when she noticed that he and Sam were already in the middle of a serious discussion. Pausing just outside the side door, she watched it unfold. Dean was telling Sam how he wasn’t apologizing for letting Gadreel in. Jessica knew this was a sticky point between him and his brother, but she agreed that Dean had had no other choice. 

“I’d do it again,” Dean proclaimed and took a sip from his whiskey.

“And that is the problem,” Sam answered.

Dean kept his head down, but from what Jess could see, the statement took him aback a little.

Sam continued, “You think you’re my savior, my brother, the hero. You swoop in and even when you mess up you think what you’re doing is worth it because you’ve convinced yourself you’re doing more good than bad…but you’re not! Kevin’s dead, Crowley’s in the wind, we’re no closer to beating this angel thing. Please tell me, what is the upside of me being alive?”

What the hell was he talking about? Jessica was about to interrupt and put in her two cents, but Dean responded and she thought better of getting in between the two of them. They needed to hash things out as much as she and Dean did.

“You kidding me?” Dean questioned in disbelief, “You and me, fighting the good fight, together!”

Sam huffed and looked bewildered. Whatever he was trying say wasn’t being communicated very well, and he crossed the distance between himself and Dean and sat across with him to level with him. Jessica continued to look on. 

“Just once, be honest with me,” Sam asked, “You didn’t save me, for me. You did it for you!”

Dean looked affronted and confused, “What are you talking about?”

“I was ready to die, I was ready! I should have died! But you, you didn’t want to be alone.” Dean’s face went from shocked to hurt as Sam continued. “And that’s what all this boils down to. You can’t stand the thought of being alone!”

Jessica could tell Dean had had enough. He got up from the table with a smile of disbelief. 

Sam continued to make his point, “I’ll give you this much, you are certainly willing to do the sacrificing, as long as you’re not the one being hurt. I mean, you’re doing it with Jessica right now! She loves you Dean, and you are doing everything in your power to keep her at arms-length, because you’re afraid you’re gonna get hurt!”

Dean scowled. “I’m doing that to keep her safe,” he said under his breath.

“But you’re hurting her anyway!” Sam pointed out, “You should have seen her when you left. She was devastated!”

_Dammit Sam!_ Jessica though. Why was he telling Dean about that? This was going to make her talk with him even more difficult!

Dean closed his eyes solemnly for a moment. “Can we not drag her into this?”

“Fine, but it doesn’t change anything,” Sam proclaimed haughtily.

“Alright you want to be honest?” Dean turned back to Sam with ferocity, “If the situation were reversed, and I was dying, you’d do the same thing.” 

Ha! Take that Sam! Jessica was getting just as fired up watching this as if she were involved in the argument. Dean was right! There was no way Sam could argue that!

Sam seemed to ponder it for a moment, but then he shook his head. “No, Dean. I wouldn’t.”

Both Dean and Jessica, still hiding in the shadows of the hallway and eavesdropping unbeknownst to the brothers, had to do a double take.

“Same circumstances; I wouldn’t!” Sam doubled down on his confession.

Jessica’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she watched Dean process what his brother was saying. Sam let it sink in and then went off to bed, leaving his brother behind with the realization that he wouldn’t try to save his life. As Sam passed by the junction of the two hallways that were adjacent to the mess hall, Jessica pressed her back up flat against the wall and stayed as still as possible in hopes that he wouldn’t see that she had been there the whole time. But Sam passed with his head down and didn’t seem to notice her. Jess peeked back around the corner of the threshold to see the tears form in Dean’s eyes, the slight tremble of his lip before he leaned forward against the counter and bowed his head to try and understand what just happened.

A fire burned in her belly as she watched him suffer like that. 

Jessica abandoned her talk with Dean for now, because certainly he wasn’t going to be in the right headspace anyway, and stomped off towards Sam’s room. Boy she was going to give him a piece of her mind! When she reached his room, his door was already closed. She knocked angrily.

“Dean, I don’t have anything else to say!” Sam shouted through the door.

That was it! Jess didn’t hesitate any longer. She pushed open the door catching Sam by surprise.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know that was you,” he remarked.

“How dare you!?” she began her tirade, “Tell me you didn’t mean that! You march right back in there and tell your brother you’re sorry!”

Sam sighed, as he came to the realization, “You heard.”

“Yeah, I heard! And I cannot believe you! What the hell is wrong with you? How could you say something like that to him? He has done nothing his whole life but look after you! You know damn well he would give up his own life for you, for anyone he cares about, and for you to tell him that you don’t care enough to do the same?!” she threw her hands up in the air in frustration, “un-friggen-believable!”

“Jess, it’s not that I don’t care about him, but he has to realized that he’s not always right about everything. He can’t keep messing with people’s lives just cause it suits him better,” Sam tried to explain, so she would see his side of things.

All Jessica could see was red. The face she gave him then actually frightened him a little.

“You really don’t want to go there. You know that I’ve been watching your lives since he picked your ass up from Stanford to help find your dad? Let’s examine all the times that you didn’t listen to Dean and he was right! Embracing your psychic powers…bad! Ruby…bad! Drinking demon blood…bad! Letting Lucifer in…bad! Refusing to get your soul back and trying to kill Dean and Bobby in the process…bad!”

“Alright, alright, I get your point,” Sam tried to stop her.

But there was no stopping her now! “Oh I’m not done! Let’s see, then there was the time you let Dean get turned into a vampire…”

“That’s not fair, I didn’t have a soul then,” Sam argued back.

Jess moved in closer, pointing her finger into his chest. “Alright, so what’s your excuse for leaving him rotting in Purgatory for an entire year while you went off to play house with some random woman, who by the way was not even that attractive and had major issues, and frankly wasn’t good enough for you!”

Sam kept his calm demeanor, “Are you done now?” He didn’t have time to brace himself, as her hand collided with his face, leaving a red welt in its wake.

“Now I’m done!” She turned and stormed off slamming Sam’s door behind her. By the time she got halfway down the hall, Dean had appeared to see what all the commotion was about.

“What’s with all the shouting? Are you okay?” he looked down at her, his brow furrowed with concern. 

“I’m fine,” she replied grumpily, breathing hard and lips pursed in anger.

Dean eyed her warily. He placed his hands on her arms to calm her and looked down at her intently. “What happened?”

She grit her teeth. “Your brother’s an ass, that’s what happened!”

Dean looked past her down the hall towards his brother’s room. He was pissed now. It was one thing to be a dick towards him, but he’s gone too far if he was being an asshole to her! Before he could storm off, he felt Jessica’s arms wrap around his torso as she pressed herself into him. He let his anger go for the moment and held onto her.

When she pulled away, she wiped angry tears from her eyes. “I love you, Dean. And I would do anything for you. I need you to know that.”

“I know,” he replied, still unsure of why she was so angry and how to calm her down.

Jessica swallowed down the rest of her rage and looked up at him earnestly. “I know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay,” he tried to interject but she stopped him, “because you are a great friend and I’m just lucky to have you in my life. I would gladly give up my life for you, even if your brother wouldn’t.” 

Dean looked down at her through emotion-filled eyes, dumbfounded by her words, as she rose up on her tippy-toes to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’ll be in my room. I need some time to cool off,” she said before squeezing his hand in hers and walking away.

He turned and watched her disappear around the next corner and then turned back towards Sam’s room with renewed anger on his face. Guess he wasn’t done having it out with his brother just yet.


	20. "The Heart of the Matter"

It had been a horrible night. Dean had it out once again with his brother after Jessica had retired to her bedroom for the night. Sam was defensive, saying he didn’t do anything to provoke her anger, but judging by the dark red mark on Sam’s face Dean assumed he had to have done something. After the two of them shouted accusations back and forth, Sam finally fessed up that Jessica had overheard their conversation from earlier. She was angry with him for hurting Dean. Apparently she had really let his brother have it, bringing up past events she shouldn’t have even been privy to, except that their life was bizarre and she had seen it all on TV before she got here. Dean could see that some of the things that Jessica had brought up opened old wounds for Sam, and he wasn’t in the mood for talking about it anymore. Despite Dean’s hurt feelings and anger at his brother for what he had disclosed before, he would always care for Sam, no matter what. When Sam dismissed him, Dean just rolled his eyes and headed back down the hall to his own room. He had thought about checking in on Jessica first, but she didn’t really seem like she was in a talkative mood at the moment, and she probably could use some space.

To be honest, they all could.

Shutting himself up in his room, Dean kicked off his boots and grabbed his wireless headphones and turned up the tunes on his MP3 player. He propped two pillows under his head and lay down to close his eyes and just let the music take him somewhere else. Dean wasn’t into all that self-help, yoga crap so this was as close to meditation as he could get. Turning up the volume and tuning out the world around him seemed like a great idea at the moment. Unfortunately, tonight, it did little to ease his mind. He thought of everything that had transpired in the past few weeks. Maybe he shouldn’t have returned home; seemed like his brother would have been happier if he had stayed gone. Jessica probably would’ve been better off too, except according to Sam she had been a wreck without him. One thing was for sure, he was toxic to everyone around him. Even when he tried to make things better he seemed to make things worse. Maybe Sam was right when he said that he did more harm than good. It should have been him that did the trials, and he should have finished them. They all would have been better off.

After a while of depressing contemplation, Dean started to drift off. But he didn’t quite fall asleep before he started feeling a little cold. He breathed out and realized this was not just his body temperature dropping from dozing off, this was an extreme cold spot that could only mean one thing. Then his music turned to static and his eyes flew open. He surveyed the room, yanking the earphones off and dropping them down on the bed as he got up to grab his shotgun. There was nothing there that he could see. Then a thought occurred to him: Jessica! He grabbed an iron crowbar from the corner of his room and made his way quickly down the hall, vigilantly watching for any sign of an apparition. When he reached Jessica’s room he didn’t bother knocking, instead he swiftly turned the knob and pushed into the room. 

Jess let out a little squeal of surprise, mistaking him for a ghost, but she had already laid down a salt circle and was standing inside.

A swell of pride welled up in him at seeing how prepared she was and how logically she reacted. “Nice work. Did you see it?” She shook her head at him. “Here,” he handed her the crowbar, “swing at anything that comes at you, but don’t leave that circle, do you understand?”

"I got it! Go take care of it!” Jessica urged. 

“I mean it don’t move until I come back for you,” he warned again before calling out for his brother, “SAM!”

By the time Dean had come back for her, the lights in her room stopped flickering. He had found Sam and now that the activity had seemed to die down they needed to prepare for the next attack and figure out exactly who or what was haunting the bunker. Dean brought her to the kitchen, where Sam had already set up the equipment he needed to pack salt rounds. 

“Stay here with Sam while I go do another sweep to make sure it’s really gone,” Dean ordered, but before he left he added, “You guys can be civil to each other right?”

“Yes, Dean, just go,” Jessica sighed.

Once Dean left, she turned toward Sam, who was keeping his head down and focusing on the task in front of him. Now that she had cooled off from their confrontation earlier, she suddenly felt bad for some of the things she had said to Sam. He could be stubborn, especially when it came to matters with his brother, a quality that she always kind of loathed watching the show. But, he didn’t deserve to have all his bad decisions thrown in his face the way she did. She loved Sam too! In a different and much less passionate way than she did for Dean, as demonstrated by her temper earlier, but she still loved him. Now she was just hoping he could forgive her for the way she attacked him.

“Need some help with that?” she made a peace offering.

“Yeah, come here, I’ll show you how to do it,” Sam accepted, but he didn’t really look at her.

Jess sat down opposite him, and watched as he took an empty shell and filled it with salt. Then he tamped it down with a little tool and placed it into the press that was sitting in front of him. He pulled the lever, securing the cap to the end of the shell. “That doesn’t look hard,” Jessica remarked.

“It’s not,” Sam confirmed, “but it will go a lot faster if we work in tandem.” He handed her some empty shells. “Get these packed and just put them there when you’re done so I can cap them. There are more empty shells in that bag over there if when you finish with those.”

Jessica nodded and got to work. She was glad she had a task to keep her occupied because the air surrounding the two of them was tense. Although she was filled with an urge to apologize for her assault that night, she couldn’t figure out how to say it. Sorry, didn’t seem like it would be enough. She glanced up at Sam, but he was busy focusing on the rounds and didn’t glance back at her. Jessica frowned. With everything that had been going on around there the past month, she realized she had been a little harsh with Sam. It wasn’t really his fault that Dean had left when he did, and although he could have done more to stop him it was Dean who had made the choice. Sam had a lot to deal with too: the trials, almost dying, Gadreel using him to kill Kevin. All of that was enough to drive any normal person crazy. She didn’t like the way he was handling it, taking out his frustrations on his brother, but she could understand that he might not be in the right frame of mind at the moment. The two of them worked silently, packing round after round. Dean came back and helped for a little while, and when enough time had passed that they believed the ghost wasn’t going to make another appearance anytime soon, they decided to go to bed. They were going to need some sleep after all that transpired.

*****

Come morning, the strain between the three of them didn’t seem as bad. It wasn’t like they were having a jolly ‘ole time together, but the atmosphere didn’t seem as thick with tension as it did the night before. There is something magical about sleep that restores negativity and pain. Sam had gotten up first and had put the first pot of coffee on, then went to task finishing up the last pack of empty shells.

It wasn’t long before Jessica popped in and said good morning, getting back to her normal routine of making breakfast for the three of them, pulling what she needed from the fridge. It felt good to be back in her rhythm, as it had been so disrupted lately. There was important stuff to do around here now, and there was no time to dwell in the shittiness of the past few weeks. It took a random ghost haunting to put some things in perspective. “Sam, do you want a smoothie this morning, or are eggs okay?” she asked as she continued to pull down the pans she needed from the pot rack.

“Don’t go out of your way, I’ll eat whatever,” Sam responded cordially, “There’s a little bit of coffee left if you want some.”

“Yes! I could use some coffee right about now. Do you mind pouring me a cup?”

Sam didn’t answer her, but rather got up to do as she asked, setting the mug down on the prep table so she could reach.

“Thanks, Sam,” she replied and turned back to her task. She pounded through her first cup as quickly as she could without burning her tongue, and once she had everything going on the stove Jess took a minute to pour herself a second cup. Noting that she finished the pot, she took out the old filter and the used grinds and tossed it in the trash, replacing it with fresh, anticipating that Dean would probably want a cup when he got up. By the time she got breakfast made, Dean made his entrance.

“How’s this possible?” He griped as he went straight for the coffee pot, “I thought you said this was the safest place on the planet.” He checked to see if it was ready to brew and once confirmed hit the button to start it, grabbing a coffee cup for himself and heading to the table.

“Look I know nothing got in. I mean the bunker is warded and sigiled from top to bottom, there’s no way something came in from the outside,” Sam reasoned.

Jessica listened to their conversation at she put all the food out on a few platters and set them out on the prep table buffet style. The table was still a mess of salt and equipment so it would just be easier for everyone to grab a plate themselves. As the boys were trying to figure out whom or what was haunting them, Jessica noticed the coffee pot beep. She glanced over at it curiously. The only time it should beep like that is when you first start to brew or when it’s done. It beeped again when Sam implied that it might have been Kevin’s ghost. “Um guys…” Jessica tried to draw their attention to what was happening.

“Sam I’m telling you, this ghost,” Dean denied, “is not Kevin!”

The coffee pot began beeping furiously, finally drawing the brothers’ attention to what Jessica had already realized. Dean began to back up from the machine and when Sam called out Kevin’s name a coffee mug burst into pieces making all of them jump slightly.

“So maybe it is Kevin then?” Jessica offered.

They all scanned the room looking for any more signs that he was still with them, but everything quieted down again.

While they waited for him to break through again, they all grabbed a plate and had their breakfast. After which, Dean helped Jessica clean up the dishes while Sam cleaned up the mess they made with the salt rounds. No one said very much, either because they didn’t know what to say, or because they were listening for any indication that Kevin was still around. When everything was cleaned up, Jessica made a suggestion.

“Maybe we could use the coffee pot to communicate with him? Call him back?” she suggested.

Dean looked at her like she was crazy.

“That’s not really a bad idea,” Sam agreed, “I mean it seems like he was able to manipulate it. Maybe we can ask him yes or no questions, you know, keep it simple.”

“You guys want to talk to a coffee pot?” Dean quizzed, thinking the idea was beyond bizarre.

Jessica tried to convince him, “I know from when I was stuck between worlds it was exhausting trying to communicate, and I know that I wasn’t exactly a ghost, but it was a similar deal. When I was able to manipulate something, I tried it over and over again. Kevin’s likely to try using this too!”

Dean still thought it was crazy. “Alright, well then have at it, I’m gonna go elsewhere and wait for Kevin to come find me.” He took off down the hall towards his room as Jess and Sam exchanged eye rolls. It figured Dean would skip out, much like he always did with research. He hated the boring parts of hunting.

Grabbing the coffee pot off the shelf, Jessica carried it over to the table, careful not to accidentally yank the plug out of the socket. She sat down across from Sam. “What should we ask him?”

“I guess we should just start with the basics,” Sam acknowledged, “Kevin? Are you still around buddy?” Both he and Jess waited for a response, but nothing came. “We know you’re here, can you make this beep again so we can communicate?” Nothing.

“Kevin?” Jess tried too, but still they got no response. They waited for what seemed like an eternity, but they just weren’t making contact. “I really need to get a shower and get some stuff done around here,” Jessica bemoaned.

Sam looked up at her. “Go. I’ll keep trying for awhile.”

“You sure?” she asked for confirmation. She didn’t want to leave him here to do all the work, but when Sam doubled down she thanked him and took off to gather her stuff before heading to the shower. 

After Jessica got dressed and made a few rounds to pick up here and there, she found Sam still sitting vigilantly in front of a silent coffee pot. He looked exhausted. She offered to give him a break so he could go about his own morning routine, but he declined her offer. He didn’t want to stick her with more work. She already did too much, and this was his and his brother’s responsibility, not hers. But Jessica sat with him anyway, at least to keep him company.

Not long after, Dean entered the room again to check in, and Sam wasted no time using the opportunity to his advantage. “Alright, you’re up!” he announced, leaving Dean to it. Dean didn’t look too pleased, but Jessica could see by the look on his face it wasn’t so much about the tediousness of the task at hand, rather that he was, as usual, internalizing his pain and guilt over Kevin’s demise. Jessica squeezed his arm as he sat down next to her. 

“Dean, remember what I said…it’s not your fault.” He bowed his head and turned the coffee pot around to face him. “If you want, I’ll sit with you, but I think I need to go talk to Sam real quick and apologize for last night. I’ve waited too long already because I really didn’t know how to bring it up with everything going on. I just don’t want to leave things like that between me and your brother,” Jess explained.

"Go,” Dean understood, “I’ll be fine here. I already feel like an idiot talking to a machine. I don’t need you here to witness it.”

Jessica gave him a quick, comforting hug before standing up. “We still need to have our talk too,” she began, “but I think we’re okay for now, right?”

Dean looked up at her, “I’m okay as long as you’re okay.”

She smiled at him and nodded, “I’m okay, I promise.” 

Jessica left Dean to it, as she knew how uncomfortable it was probably going to get in there. Anyway, she had some uncomfortable stuff to deal with now too. Sam had already made it to his room before she called out to him to stop for a moment.

“Did Kevin make contact?” he asked, hopefully.

Jessica shook her head, “No, not yet, but I wanted to talk to you…apologize for last night.”

“You don’t have to,” Sam protested.

“Yes, I do,” she continued, “I’ve been dealing with a lot of ups and downs lately, Hell we all have, and it wasn’t right to take everything out on you. I just…you know how I feel about Dean, and I’m working through all that, but as much as I’m hurt that he’s not reciprocating my feelings for him, I’m still always going to be protective of him. When I overheard your conversation last night, I was angry. It still bothers me what you said to him, especially since you didn’t see his face when you left. And, yes, there have been times before, watching you and your brother on my television back home that I didn’t agree with what you did or the choices you made, but I didn’t have any right throwing that back in your face. I know you were doing the best you could with the information you had at the time, and I know that you have a good heart. I care about you too, Sam and I know we’ve butt heads lately but I don’t like fighting with you, so I’m sorry.”

Sam looked down at her sincerely, “Look, you don’t have to justify your feelings to me. I get it, and you don’t have to agree with me either, but I need you to understand that I’ve been dealing with Dean’s issues for my whole life, and sometimes he needs to be knocked down a peg. He doesn’t always make the right decisions either.”

Jessica nodded, “I know, Sam. I’m not making excuses for him, he’s not perfect, just go a little easier on him right now? I know you’ve been through a lot lately, but so has he. We all lost Kevin.”

He sighed and turned away briefly. “Jess, I can’t promise anything, but I won’t go out of my way to pick a fight with him. He needs to be accountable for his actions too.”

“Of course,” she agreed, “I’ll talk to him too.” Jessica averted her eyes from Sam, worried that things were still not mended between them. “So are we good? Me and you? Can you forgive me?”

Sam smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “I didn’t have to. I know you were just upset.”

The lights began to flicker around them. 

"Kevin?” Sam asked aloud, before turning back to her, “C’mon maybe Dean made contact.”

Jessica followed Sam down the hall and back to the kitchen just in time for Kevin to materialize.

*****

The boys had left a little over two hours ago to follow up on the lead that Kevin’s ghost friend had given him about his mom. According to the intel, Mrs. Tran was still alive somewhere being held captive. Although both Sam and Dean were skeptical that Kevin’s mom could even still be alive, it seemed to be the kid’s dying wish that they go find her, so that’s exactly what they were going to try and do. They owed him.

While they were gone, Jessica continued to try and make contact with Kevin. It wasn’t much longer after he pleaded with them to find his mom that he had disappeared back into the veil again. He would come through every now and again, but it never lasted long. For a soul who was basically stuck in limbo, Kevin seemed to be doing remarkably well, at least from the little bits and pieces of conversation Jessica could have with him when he was able to break through. He was always a good kid, with a good head on his shoulders in life, and that seemed to have carried on into death. Jessica went about her normal routine, waiting for Kevin to reappear every once and a while, and waiting for the boys to get home, hopefully with good news. At least this time she had company, sporadically. She was sitting in the library searching for any weird news that might constitute a new case for the brothers when Kevin popped back in. Jess closed the laptop at him from across the room. “Welcome back,” she said, “that was long one!”

“Yeah,” Kevin replied, “I was getting tired. The energy is really weird in the veil. It’s hard to keep yourself grounded.”

Jessica though back to when she was stuck without the ability to be seen or heard. It was exhausting. “Believe me, been there, done that! I sympathize.”

“Have Sam and Dean gotten back yet?” Kevin asked, hopeful.

“No,” Jess shook her head, “not yet. Kevin, you’re prepared for the possibility of your mom not being okay right?”

He stared at her for a moment as if he were lost. “I went months thinking my mother was dead, I’ve made peace with it, but if there is even a slight possibility that she’s still out there somewhere, I have to hold on to hope.”

Jessica nodded in understanding, “I get it. When you love someone, you do anything for them.”

“Right, like the way you are with Dean,” Kevin suddenly changed the subject. He watched her try to play it off like she didn’t know what he was talking about, but she couldn’t fool him. “I’ve been stuck here since I died. I’ve see you. You were so upset when he left, and I was there when you told him how you feel about him.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Jessica was shocked, and a little embarrassed.

"I didn’t mean to,” Kevin explained, “It’s just sometimes when I’m in and out of the veil I don’t exactly have control of where I land.” 

Jess looked away from him, “Great, so you know all our secrets.”

“It was never really a secret,” Kevin confessed, “The two of you aren’t half as good at hiding it as you think you are. I’m not judging either. And for the record, he’s an idiot!”

She smiled coyly, “He’s not an idiot, he just doesn’t feel the same. It’s okay, I understand.”

“Apparently you don’t,” Kevin countered, “because he’s absolutely in love with you too and he’s being stupid about it. Trust me. I’ve been privy to Dean Winchester’s self-pity sessions. He’s just too stubborn to admit that he wants to be with you too.”

Before Jessica could ask him what he meant, how he knew exactly, Kevin blinked out again. She sat there thinking about what he said. She had just resigned herself to the fact that she had to let go of any hope that Dean would reciprocate her feelings and just be content with being friends, but both Kevin and Sam had now said the same thing: that Dean did actually love her. But a part of her couldn’t reconcile the thought that if he truly loved her, he wouldn’t make excuses. Dean was never one to not go after what he wanted, so if he wanted her, then what was the hesitation? It’s not like she hadn’t opened the door wide for him to make advances. She had been pretty clear with him about how she felt and what _she_ wanted. The excuse that he was just trying to keep her safe didn’t make any sense to her either, because clearly she was always going to be in danger around them. No, they had to be mistaken. Dean just didn’t see her that way, and that was fine. She wouldn’t want to force him anyway, because it wouldn’t be real.

That night came and went, and the boys finally returned home the next evening around six o’clock with Mrs. Tran in tow. They had already stopped and let her get cleaned up and get a change of clothes while they took care of Dean’s battle scars. There was a thin red line running down from his jaw to the base of his neck when they pulled into the driveway and Jessica met them outside. It of course did not escape her notice, but Dean insisted it was just a scratch. They asked Jess to stay outside with Mrs. Tran until they acclimated Kevin to the idea that his mom was indeed alive and there to see him. But Mrs. Tran was impatient and Jessica wasn’t going to stand in her way. 

The mother and son reunion was bitter sweet, and Sam, Dean, and Jess let them have their privacy, before they set about trying to figure out what was in Kevin’s things that was keeping him around the bunker. Although Dean warned Mrs. Tran about spirits eventually turning vengeful, she wouldn’t budge on taking her son home with her. She was sure that Kevin’s father’s ring was the item he was attached to, so after they all had dinner, they wished them well before they both headed out together. Jessica said her goodbyes first, knowing that Sam and Dean both needed closure, and headed back into the kitchen to clean up the dishes while they took a moment to say farewell to Kevin for the last time.

Before he left, Kevin had some parting words of advice. “Get over it,” he said, “Dude’s, just because you couldn’t see me doesn’t mean I couldn’t see you. The drama, the fighting, it’s stupid.” He made them promise to stop lying to each other and fighting, and he didn’t leave before giving Dean one last piece of advice. “That girl in there? She loves you, Dean. Love her back!” and with that, Kevin and Mrs. Tran walked up the stairs in silence leaving Sam and Dean to ponder over their bickering. 

Dean eyed the floor for a moment, wanting nothing more than to stow all the crap between them and even more so, wrap his arms around his girl and call it a day. Kevin’s speech had made an impression, but as he turned around to see his brother walk off without a word, he realized that the brief moment he allowed himself to hope for a better future was just a pipe dream. Dejected, he shuffled off to his bedroom, as Sam had to his, and sat up against his headboard with his headphones on, listening to his classic rock playlist while he seethed in anger and disappointment once again.

When Jessica finished up in the kitchen, she had decided to get changed into something comfy and relax for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that late, so she didn’t want to go to sleep, but she couldn’t find the boys anywhere. Sam’s door was shut and it was quiet in his room. She ambled down the long hallways to Dean’s room to find that his door was also closed, but instead of leaving him be, she knocked. There wasn’t an answer, so she called his name lightly, afraid he might have been sleeping, and she didn’t want to wake him up. But light was spilling through the grate at the bottom of the door, so she took a chance and twisted the knob to peek her head in. 

Dean sat up straight and took off his headphones as she peered around the door. “What’s up?” he asked, “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she replied, stepping inside a little more, “Did Kevin get off alright?”

Dean sighed, “Yeah, he’s off to spend some quality time with his mom.”

“Are you going to bed?” Jessica asked.

“No, no, I was just listening to some music,” Dean responded, “What about you?”

Jessica shook her head. “I’m not really tired yet. I’m kinda bored. Feel like watching a movie or something?” she hedged.

Dean cocked a half smile. “Yeah, c’mon,” he encouraged as he slapped a hand down on the bed next to him, “what do you wanna watch?”

With a smile that lit up the whole room, Jessica bounced over to the opposite side of the bed and plopped herself down next to Dean, stretching her legs out before her and leaning up against the headboard. It made Dean chuckle.

“Wow, you must really be bored,” he remarked, grabbing the remote from his beside drawer and turning on the TV. “Alright, time to Netflix and chill.”

Jessica tensed up and she could feel her face get flushed. “Wait…what?”

Not sensing her sudden shift in discomfort, he scrolled through the offerings on the new release category. “We’re gonna watch Netflix right?”

“Um…yeah, but you said Netflix and _chill_ …”

Dean looked down at her, confusion on his face. “Yeah, isn’t that what we’re doing?”

She eyed him warily for a moment, half hoping he was kidding, and half hoping he wasn’t. “Dean, you know what Netflix and chill means, right?”

“What?” he asked befuddled, “I mean…you want to watch a movie right? Isn’t that…” He really wasn’t sure what he had said wrong here.

It dawned on Jessica that he really had no idea what that phrase meant, and she couldn’t help but giggle a little at his ineptitude. “Dean, Netflix and chill is a euphemism for having sex,” she explained with a tight-lipped smile to hold back her laughter.

His face when white all of a sudden and he just let out a little, “Oh!” He did not know that. Dean cringed a little inwardly at his mistake. He tried to quickly recover from the snafu, “Um, Jess, I didn’t mean…”

With a little laugh and a big smile she said, “It’s okay, Dean. Not really up on the terms, huh? C’mon let’s just pick something out.” She grabbed the remote from his hand and began looking through the options.

Dean looked down at her as she focused on the screen, thankful she gave him a pass on that one. How could he be so stupid? That could have really been disastrous if she hadn’t been so cool about it. They were just getting back to normal after everything that was said between them, and he almost just set them back. An involuntary smile crossed his face at how cute she looked when she thought he had known what she was talking about, but he turned away and focused on what she was picking out. “No, no, no. No chick flicks!” He protested when she was traversing the romance category.

“What? It’s got comedy too!” she countered.

Dean went to steal the remote back but she playfully yanked her arm away, holding it out behind her back.

“Okay, you really think that’s gonna work?” Dean grabbed a hold of her waist and pulled her towards him just slightly as he reached across her body and easily grabbed it out of her hand. “You have short little arms, you can’t play keep away with me!”

“Jerk,” she bantered back playfully, “Fine, but no testosterone filled action flicks either!”

“Oh c’mon…not even the Avengers or something?” he pleaded.

Jessica rolled her eyes, “Oh my god I’ve seen it a million times…it’s not that good!”

“How dare you!” Dean scolded in mock insult, “It’s got comedy too!”

They both laughed as he dished out the same excuse she had given him before. “I’ve got it,” she finally offered, “Let’s watch a horror movie. We both like those.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows at him waiting for a reply.

“Yeah, alright, that’ll work,” Dean resolved, scrolling down to find one. They settled on an movie called _Grave Encounters_ about some paranormal investigators in an abandoned mental asylum, and once the film started, Jessica got up and turned off the light on Dean’s desk. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“We’re watching a scary movie, we can’t have _all_ the lights on!” she reasoned, “I left that little one on over there so it’s not completely dark.”

"You might as well turn that one off too. Unless, you’re gonna be scared?” he challenged.

Jessica hopped back off the bed and turned off the little task lamp on the table in the corner. Now the only light was coming from the screen. “I’m not scared of a stupid movie,” she proclaimed and took her place next to him again. 

“Ha!” he bellowed, “We’ll see about that!”

The movie started out slow, and besides a few times that Dean made a wisecrack about how stupid the characters were, it was pretty boring. 

Jessica laughed suddenly.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Nothing, it’s just you and Sam would’ve had this thing sorted out in like two seconds,” she replied.

Dean smiled and agreed, “You’re not wrong.”

As the movie progressed the stakes got a little higher, but still it wasn’t that scary until a figure ran across the screen in the background, startling Jessica. She jumped slightly and gasped audibly, leaning into Dean’s side.

“Uh huh, told ya,” he teased, earning him smack, “Ow, don’t take it out on me.”

“It was a cheap jump scare, it would make anyone jump,” she retorted.

“It didn’t make me jump,” he argued.

Jessica stared him down. “Shut up,” she sing-songed.

Dean only chuckled at her. “C’mere, I’ll won’t let the big, bad, fake monsters on the TV getcha.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his side. It was a friendly gesture, but somehow it felt weird for a second. It wasn’t like they hadn’t sat like this before, but it felt strangely intimate all of a sudden. Maybe because the lights were out, or maybe because things had been said between them that they couldn’t take back, but having her close felt both odd and comforting at the same time.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, Jessica snuggled in closer. “I’m not scared,” she reiterated.

“It’s okay, I believe you,” Dean assured her.

They stayed like that for a while until the girl on the screen screamed loudly and Jessica jumped again.

“Jesus, nothing even happened, she just screamed!” Dean sassed.

Jessica sat upright and rubbed her eyes. “I wasn’t scared, I just fell asleep. It woke me up.”

“Movie’s not doing it for you huh?” he asked, “You wanna turn it off and go to bed?”

That was not what Jessica wanted to do. She was so comfortable in Dean’s arms, and she wanted nothing more than to stay there. If they turned it off now, she’d end up having to trudge back to her room, and her evening with Dean would be over. “No, let’s finish it. I’m okay, I’m awake now.” She shifted her position so she was sitting upright a little more, but still leaned her head on his shoulder.

“You sure you’re not gonna fall asleep again?” he questioned.

She protested, “No, I’m good I swear.”

Dean estimated it may have been ten minutes before he felt her breathing shift and she was out again. Trying not wake her, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the remote, shutting the movie off and turning off the television, plunging the room into total darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the faint light coming in through the grate in the door from out in the hallway, but when he could see enough, he carefully shifted Jessica down so she was lying next to him on the mattress with her head on the pillow. Moving slowly, he stood up, shucked his button down off, and quietly rifled through his dresser drawer to grab a pair of track pants. He changed out of his jeans and into the soft cotton pants and then laid down next to her again. She was on top of the blankets, so he grabbed the throw at the end of his bed to cover them both, and turned on his side to face her. Dean snaked his arm over her belly and laid his head close to hers, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

*****

With a full-bodied yawn, Jessica rolled over and stretched out. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and let them flutter open. Looking around, she realized that she was still in Dean’s room, but she was alone. The lights were still off, and she was snuggled up under the throw blanket that Dean had bought when they first moved into the bunker to make if feel cozier. She must have fallen asleep before the movie ended, and Dean must have gone to sleep in another room. A smile crossed her face at the thought of him being such a gentleman, but part of her wished he would have stayed. Rolling over to the opposite side of the bed, Jessica reached for the alarm clock and spun it towards her. It was eight in the morning already, surely the boys would be up and hungry by now.

Another good stretch, and Jess swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, folding the throw blanket and fluffing the dent out of the pillow where she had laid her head all night. She made her way to her room to brush her teeth and grab her clothes and then headed to the bathroom to shower. After looking at herself in the mirror, she was glad Dean hadn’t stuck around to see her bedhead. She turned on the water, letting it get nice and hot before stepping under the stream. Lingering for just a few extra minutes before sudsing up, she closed her eyes and basked in the warmth of the water. For a minute she allowed herself to pretend that it was Dean’s arms comforting her instead of the stream, but she soon dropped the fantasy and finished up her routine.

As she made her way through the hallways, she noted how quiet it was in the bunker. Once again she found herself roaming the corridors looking for any sign of the boys, but it wasn’t until she found the note in the library that she realized they had headed out on a hunt early. The note was in Dean’s handwriting, and it said they were heading to Washington state, so it was going to be at least a few days until she would see them again. With a heavy sigh, she kept reading and although she wasn’t looking forward to being alone in the bunker again without them, the last line made her smile: “When we get back you and I can finish that movie…or at least watch one that won’t make you pass out from boredom.”

Jessica spent her day reorganizing the kitchen and making a grocery list. She’d have to drive into town before the Winchester’s got back to get some more food stocked up, but she would wait until she knew they were done with their case. It was best to try and time the food run with their return, because sometimes they would be gone longer than they expected and some of the perishables would start to turn before they got back. She certainly couldn’t eat it all herself before it spoiled. Once she was done, she touched up a few things here and there and then decided to just relax and enjoy a non-researchy day. 

By nightfall, she had been down the YouTube rabbit hole for so long that she couldn’t stand to look at the screen anymore and decided to just turn in early. Just as she was just dozing off, her phone chimed and startled her back to awareness. Rolling over to reach it, she saw that the message was from Dean.

Dean: Hey! I know it’s late there but just wanted to let you know we’re alright. I know how you worry.

Me: How’s the case going?

Dean: Well we’ve got two dead, and not a whole lot to go on…plus we ran into those Ghostfacer douchebags.

Me: I love them!

She could picture the look on Dean’s face when he read that, and it made her chuckle.

Dean: I don’t even know how to respond to that.

Me: They make me laugh.

Dean: Yeah, ok! They’re getting in the way as usual.

Me: I’m sorry. Do you need me to do any research for you?

Dean: No, we’re good. It’s a strange case, but we’ll figure it out. I just wanted to say goodnight.

Jessica smiled softly. Try as she might to fight it, and knowing that it was useless, she couldn’t help but love him. He was really sweet when he let his guard down. 

Me: Goodnight, Dean. Stay safe and come home in one piece.

Dean: 10-4 sweetheart. Get some sleep.

*****

Dean shut down his messaging app and tossed the phone onto the bedside table. He loosened the tie from around his neck and stood up to get changed for bed. 

“Who were you talking to?” Sam asked looking up from his laptop.

Without looking at him, Dean continued to shuck his formal police wear for something more comfortable. “Just letting Jessica know we’re alright,” he responded as he threw a tee shirt over his head.

“It was an awful long conversation for a check in,” Sam prodded.

Dean turned around and rolled his eyes, “So? She was asking me about the case, what am I supposed to ignore her?”

“No I just…” Sam stopped himself, “you know what? Nevermind, it’s not my business.”

“You’re right, it’s not! I’m hitting the hay,” Dean responded before climbing under the covers and turning his back towards his brother. 

Things were still so awkward around Sam, and Dean let himself stew long enough in the bitterness of the situation that his little brother was starting to get on his nerves. What did he care how long he texted with Jessica? He didn’t want to be brothers anymore anyway, so why even show an interest? He would’ve rather been talking to her at the moment. At least she cared about him, which was more than he could say for Sam right now. Dean wished he could have brought her with them. She could be there lying next to him like she was the night before in his room back at the bunker. Of course he would never want her to be hunting with them, would never want to put her in harm’s way, but in these lonely moments on the road it would be nice to have her with him.

Dean reached over and grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and turned it sideways, hugging into it as if it were her he was cradling in his arms. He closed his eyes and thought about how she felt the night before. She was so small lying next to him in the dark, but she fit perfectly up against him, the little spoon to his big. He had watched her sleep for a long while before he had fallen asleep himself, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the way she wiggled around to get comfortable, and the serene look on her face as she slumbered. At one point she had turned around so that she was facing him, her eyes still closed and her brain no doubt off into dreamland, and he had had a sudden urge to kiss her, had allowed his lips to brush lightly over the tip of her cute little nose. Dean had allowed himself to love her in the dark silence of the moment before he drifted off to sleep, but when he woke up early the next morning, he decided it was best to get out of there before she woke up too. Now, lying in the uncomfortable motel bed, he wished he could be back there with her. He squeezed the pillow tighter and focused on the memory before falling asleep.


	21. "Tainted Love"

Jessica was in the kitchen when she heard the door to the bunker slam shut. She ran to greet them as she always did, but Dean just stomped past her with a sour look on his face and didn’t even bother saying hello. Sam took the stairs slower and met her at the bottom. He looked exhausted. “What’s the matter with him?” Jessica asked, “Did you two get into a fight again?” She grabbed ahold of Sam’s chin and turned his head to the side to examine the cuts on his cheek and neck. 

Sam sighed and pulled away from her, “No, he’s pissed because some of Abaddon’s demons got into the car and keyed a message across the door panels .”

“Shit! I bet he’s beside himself!” Jessica noted. “Wait...did you guys get the blade? Did he kill Abaddon?”

“We had it, but no. Crowley stole the blade and took off with it, and the demons were long gone once we got back to the car, so we’re still batting zero,” Sam explained.

Jessica looked up at Sam, realizing he wasn’t just tired like she had thought, instead his eyes looked wary, like there was something nagging at him. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

For a moment Sam hesitated, but he didn’t want to keep Jessica in that dark about his concerns about the blade and the Mark. He saw Dean in action when he cut off Sinclair’s head with it; the way the Mark glowed red, the way his brother’s arm shook with power, the look of rage on Dean’s face as he held onto it tight, long after the fight was over. It was doing something to him. What, Sam didn’t know exactly, but they needed to find out because whatever it was, he was sure it wasn’t good. “The Mark of Cain,” Sam began, “I think it’s doing something to Dean. You should’ve seen him after he used it, it was like he was possessed or something, like a junkie looking for his next hit.”

“What do you mean after he used it? Who did he use it on?” Jessica was perplexed. He had just said they didn’t kill Abaddon and that the demons were gone before they got back.

"Magnus Sinclair, the old Men of Letters member. He kind of trapped us, chained us up and tortured us.”

“Hence, the cuts on your face?” Jessica reached out to touch Sam’s cheek again. “We should clean those up.”

“I got it. I’ll be fine,” Sam continued, “and Dean took care of Sinclair, but not without a price. That blade and that Mark are bad news. We need to know more about them, figure out what it’s doing to Dean so we can stop whatever ill-effect it’s having on him. I’m gonna need your help.”

Jessica looked up at him sincerely, “Of course, Sam! Anything you need, anything Dean needs, I’ve got you both.” An eerie feeling came over her as she pondered what Sam had said. The concerns she already had about the Mark of Cain and how callously Dean had accepted it looked like they were coming to fruition, and she knew how this show liked to twist things. Like to deliver heart-wrenching blows to the gut. This was another one of the Winchester’s Achilles heels, and Dean was in danger. “I better check on Dean,” she announced with a sigh, “Good thing I’ve got pie made. He probably needs some comfort right now.”

“Just be careful,” Sam warned, “He’s in a hell of a mood right now, and the Mark might still be affecting him.”

She nodded and swung by the kitchen to cut Dean a piece of the blueberry pie she made him. For good measure, she added a dollop of homemade whipped cream. If what Sam was saying was true, he was going to need a little something extra to sweeten him up. With pie in hand, she made her way to the garage, and found Dean squatting next to the side of Baby. The demons sure did a number on her! The markings stretched along the whole driver’s side of the car. As she approached, Dean let out a roar.

“Dammit! Those sons of bitches scratched all the way down to the metal!” He pounded his fist on the top of the car as he stood up.

Jessica walked closer to him, cautiously. “Hey!” she announced herself. 

Dean looked over at her briefly, registering she was there, but then shifted his focus back to the damage in the paint. 

“I brought you some pie,” she offered.

“Pie’s not going to fix the car!” Dean bemoaned. He looked over at Jessica’s crest-fallen face and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I’m just pissed right now.”

Jessica looked up at him timidly, “It’s okay.”

Dean turned to her, “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” 

She gave him a half smile.

“It looks delicious,” he said to make amends, “Can you just do me a favor and put it up for me? I’ll eat it later. I’ve got to take care of this first, and it looks like it’ll be awhile.”

Jess nodded and turned to go, but stopped and looked back at him. “Dean, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he responded, rubbing his eyes, “I’m just tired and on edge.”

“Do you need any help? What can I do?” she asked sincerely.

Dean sighed, “Nothing. This is going to be a long process. Just let me deal with this and I’ll come find you later. Maybe we can watch another movie or something after dinner.”

She smiled and nodded at him. “Okay, I’ll go put this away,” she motioned to the pie, “just let me know if you need anything.” Jessica left Dean to himself, he was in no mood to have company at the moment, and she was determined now to help Sam do some research on the Mark of Cain. Sam was right, it was affecting Dean. When did he ever turn down pie? After wrapping up the slice she cut and sticking it in the fridge for later, Jessica headed to the library and began pulling books off the shelves; anything that might contain some information on the Mark. Sam joined her shortly, and they spent the afternoon reading to themselves and sharing what little information they could find with one another, but ultimately the books were no help. 

Before they knew it, it was almost 7:00, and their stomachs were rumbling. Dean hadn’t showed his face yet, but Jessica figured she’d get dinner started while the boys were immersed in their own tasks. She fried up some chicken cutlets, made a pot of mashed potatoes, and tossed together a quick side salad; a balanced meal with something for everyone. Dean would double up on the potatoes and avoid the salad, but Sam would appreciate some green on his plate. When everything was ready she called the boys in. It took Dean a minute to wash up from working on the car, but the food was still relatively hot by the time he sat down with them to eat. Both Jessica and Sam watched him closely as he ate in moody silence, but by the time they all finished, Dean seemed to be in a little better mood. He even asked for his pie from earlier, surely a good sign. 

After dessert, Sam grabbed some books from the library and headed to his room to study in privacy, while Dean went back to the garage, leaving Jessica to clean up the kitchen. When she finished, she turned off the lights and headed to her own room. It didn’t look like she and Dean would be watching that movie after all. 

*****

Dean finished filling and sanding the scratches in the door around midnight. He was on his fourth beer, and figured it would be best to take a break and finish up his work the next day. He was going to have to take a run into town to get what he needed to repaint the car anyway and the store would be closed. Exhausted, both physically and mentally, he meandered down to the lavatory and stripped down, stepping into the shower to scrub himself clean. After shampooing and washing the dust and dirt off his skin, he leaned forward, hands pressed against the white tiles and bowed his head, letting the water pound down on him from above. He stayed there like that for a few minutes, and then turned the hot water up incrementally until it was almost too hot to stand. But he stood there, letting it turn his freckled shoulders red as the rivulets of water burned down his skin. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he turned the water off and toweled dry.

After getting dressed, he padded down the quiet halls in his socked feet. Sam and Jessica had obviously gone to bed, so he decided he’d do some research on Abaddon. Now that they had the First Blade, or at least knew who had it, Dean was dead set on finding the bitch and snuffing her out. When he reached the library, he saw that there were piles of books on the table, all regarding mystical symbols and marks. Apparently someone was doing some research of their own earlier. Anger rose up in him, from what he didn’t know, but it was only momentarily and he was able to shove it back down quickly. Grabbing a few books from a nearby shelf that pertained to demons and pouring himself a tumbler full of whiskey, Dean sat down to sift through any information he could find about Abaddon or Knights of Hell. He found reference to them, but not much in the way of actual information. The knights seemed to be pretty elusive, and most accounts were sure they didn’t even exist anymore. A few hours and drinks later, and Dean decided to call it a night. He would pick up where he left off in the morning.

On the way to his room, Dean passed by Jessica’s door and stopped. Almost as if he wasn’t in control, he turned around and twisted the knob, careful as to no make any noise. He pushed the door open wide, the light from the hallway spilling in and illuminating Jessica’s sleeping frame. It looked like she had kicked the blankets off her in her sleep, and she was lying there on her side, one leg crossed over the other and bent at the knee. He stood in the doorway, just staring at her. Her back was to him and she was sound asleep, so he could leer at her undetected in the dim shadows of the room. His eyes followed the curves of her body from her bare feet up her slender calves and her supple thighs, and landed on the globe of her ass, which was peeking ever so slightly out from under her sleep shorts. Dean fought back the urge to run his hand across the smooth skin there. He would never put his hands on a woman if she didn’t consent, but he wanted to now as he watched her back rise and fall gently with every breath she took. 

Dean’s face turned hard and focused as he watched her. His feet took a few steps forward as his forearm started sending jolts of heat through him, the Mark glowing red under his skin. It was enough to stop him dead in his tracks, and he shook off the sensation. He blinked his eyes a few times in between short breaths, and stood there bewildered by his actions. Regaining his composure, Dean made his way over to the bed slowly and pulled the blanket back up over her, tucking her back in. The raw feelings he had just experience had subsided as he looked down at her serene face. Unsure of what was happening to him, Dean turned around and walked out, shutting her bedroom door quietly behind him and made his way to his own room for the night.

The next morning, Dean was up early and headed straight to the gym. He had dreams all night about Jessica, the way she looked sprawled out on her bed the night before and he really needed to work off some tension. To his surprise, the lights were already on and there was music spilling out into the hallway from the threshold. He thought that maybe Sam had gotten up early too, but when he stepped inside his breath caught as he saw Jessica there, throwing jabs into the punching bag. Great! How was he supposed to focus on getting her off his mind if she was in there working out with him? Dean took a deep breath and walked in, startling her with his presence. “Hey!” he shouted over the music.

Jessica jumped a little and spun around. She was breathing heavy and her skin was glistening with beads of sweat. She was sure she didn’t look so great at the moment, and was a little taken aback by Dean’s sudden appearance. “Hey,” she said back self-consciously, “what are you doing up so early?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Dean replied as he tossed the towel he was carrying on the bench in the corner and placed his water bottle next to it. 

“I thought I should probably practice my punches some more,” Jessica explained, “It’s been awhile since we last trained.” 

Dean eyed her as he unzipped the hoodie he was wearing and shucked it off, exposing the tank top he wore underneath. “You don’t mind if I work out in here too, do you?”

“No,” Jessica shook her head as she eyed his biceps. It was too early to be leching over him, right? She turned back around and began punching the bag again.

He watched her warily for a moment, not quite sure if it was going to be a good idea to stay, but he ultimately decided that it would be more awkward if he just up and left. Dean kept his distance from her as they both went about their workouts. He ran the treadmill for a few minutes to warm up and then focused on some pushups and crunches, before hitting the bag next to her. As they both laid into the punching bags, he couldn’t help but watch her out of the corner of his eye. Her form looked good. She was getting better at it, and he wanted to see how she would do up against a non-stationary object. “Hey sweetheart, you want to get a quick sparring match in? See if you can best me this time?” It was a challenge he knew she wouldn’t be able to back down from. 

“Sure,” she responded, slightly out of breath, “I mean if getting your ass kicked won’t hurt your pride.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed at that, “Oh honey, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” 

He winked at her and she almost fell back on her heels. He was turning on the charm and flirting with her again. She was going to have to be cautious. She knew that was just Dean being playful, he didn’t mean anything by it, but in made her heart skip a beat anyway. _I really need to get ahold of myself_ she thought. Dean had already made it very clear that he wasn’t into her that way. This was just some friendly banter. _Don’t get in your head about it. We’re just friend, s_ he reminded herself silently.

The two of them moved over to the mats and bobbed and weaved around each other for about fifteen minutes. Dean was impressed that Jessica was holding her own. She must have been practicing without him. She even landed a few punches. Of course, he didn’t return them, he just kept playing defense, but he was proud of her progress. 

After taking a water break, Dean offered to teach her a few new things. Now that she had a handle on landing a good punch, she should learn how to do some throws and takedowns. Not that he was ever hoping she would need to use them, he wouldn’t want her in close combat with anyone or anything, but it was good to know for self-defense anyway. 

“Alright, basic move here,” Dean began, “If someone comes at you and you can’t run away, first thing you do is grab around the back of the neck and then grip behind the bicep.” He demonstrated on her first and then made her mimic the hold on him. “Good, now bend your knees and try to yank me down toward you.” 

Jessica pulled with all her might and to her surprise, Dean’s footing faltered a little bit. “Are you letting me do that?” she asked skeptically. 

“A little bit, for now,” He admitted, “I just want you to get a feel for manipulating my footing before I try to fight against it. Now, again!”

She yanked him around again, following his commands to pull from one side to another, and just as she was feeling powerful Dean resisted and ended up lifting her off her feet and wrestling her down to the mat. Jess looked up at him short of breath, “So basically if someone is actually fighting against me it’s useless! Was that the lesson?”

Dean chuckled at her, “No. It’s just the first line of defense. You aren’t going to want to keep that hold long. Just use it to surprise your attacker and then we’re gonna add the next part.” He continued to show her the next steps in the sequence, once she grabs hold, yank, then scoot under the arm and take control of the neck, yank down, grab the waist and move to the back, use the knee to knock them off their feet to the ground. Simple.

“Yeah, simple,” Jess echoed sarcastically.

“Just try it,” Dean prodded.

They moved through the sequence a few times, in slow-motion at first, just so she could get the muscle memory of it down, then they sped up a little more and a little more until she was taking him down to the floor. “Good!” Dean praised her, “Alright, so let’s try it again, but this time, I’m gonna fight against it. Let’s see if you can drop me.”

Jessica looked up at him warily. Why did she have a feeling this wasn’t going to go so well? Taking a deep breath and readying herself, she took in Dean’s much larger, much more muscled form and felt a twinge of anxiety run through her. He smirked at her and then attacked without warning. She did what he had taught her, but it was much more difficult now that he was using the full power of his force to fight it. The first few times they tried, she ended up losing her own footing, but Dean was always there to catch her.

“It’s okay, try it again,” he encouraged. He could tell she was getting frustrated.

She tried a few more times, and finally, she managed to get him down on the floor, but in her brief moment of excitement, Dean rolled her over onto her back and straddled her, pinning her wrists to the floor behind her.

“Don’t ever let your guard down,” he barked, “Now how are you gonna get out of this?”

Jessica pressed her lips together in determination and tried to push up against Dean’s grip. She couldn’t even get her arms off the mat. She tried to wriggle out from underneath him, but he only sat down firmly on her hips, effectively pinning them down too. Struggling to do anything to get out of his hold, she did her best to thrash around underneath him, but he had her at his mercy. When she finally gave up she let out a long sigh. “Okay, uncle! I can’t anymore, I’m too tired, you win.”

Dean stared down at her intensely, “So you’re just gonna let the bad guy win?” His eyes narrowed slightly and his jaw tightened. “You’re just gonna roll over and die?”

“Dean, c’mon, we’re just sparring right?” Jessica said with trepidation. His countenance had changed so suddenly that it scared her a little. She watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing under his skin, and his hands began to vibrate around her wrists.

“You’re just gonna let me do whatever I want to you?” he asked as he started down at her dangerously. 

A rush of adrenalin raced through Jessica’s veins. What was happening? At first she wasn’t sure if she should be afraid or enjoy it, but then the grip on her wrists tightened painfully and she let out an involuntary groan. “Dean you’re hurting me!” 

Dean’s heartbeat quickened and he could feel the Mark burning into his flesh, but it wasn’t until he felt his erection swell in his pants that he managed to break out of the trance he was in. He blinked a few times and the loosened his hold on her, pushing himself up off the floor and taking a step back in utter disbelief. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Regaining her composure, Jessica pushed herself up off the mat and stood across from him. Although he had hurt her briefly, she looked at him now with concern. “What was that, Dean? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Dean looked gutted by what he had just done to her. “Kiddo, I’m so sorry,” he said again, and moved toward her to pull her into a hug, but she flinched away slightly. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Jess, I’m sorry, I don’t – I don’t know what came over me.”

“That mark on your arm, Dean, it was glowing!”

“I know,” he replied, still somewhat shell-shocked by his behavior, “You know I would never hurt you, right?” At this point he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. Dean turned away from her and closed his eyes. Something was happening to him, and whatever it was, he didn’t like it. He needed to find Abaddon and kill her quick so he could figure out how to get that thing off his arm. He jumped slightly when he felt Jessica’s hand on his shoulder.

“I know, Dean,” she said, “but maybe we should find Sam and…”

“No!” he cut her off firmly, “Jessica, please don’t say anything to him. I’ll figure it out, I’ll fix it.”

Jessica sighed deeply, “Dean, you guys always do this. Can’t you be honest with each other for once? It never ends well when you keep secrets! I think you need help, Dean.”

He shrugged her off, “I’m fine. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. Maybe we should take some time away from training though until I get a handle on this.” Dean looked down at the worry that was painted on her face. He reached over to her slowly, tentatively, but she didn’t pull away this time. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, her face against his chest and his hand cradling the back of her head. Relief washed over him when she wound her arms around his waist and hugged him back. They stood there holding each other for a long moment until Dean finally loosened his hold and pulled away slowly. “Go,” he said, “hit the showers and then come find me when you’re done so I can do the same. I want to get cleaned up before breakfast, and I’m starving. How ‘bout you?”

Jess was still unsure about what was happening, but she wanted to ease Dean’s mind. “Yeah, I’ll fix us something while you’re in there.”

Dean bit his lip in consternation, “Are we okay, Jess?” He worried that he just put a new wedge between them. Sam was right, he really did ruin everything.

She nodded back at him and smiled softly, “We’re always good, Dean. I know you’d never really hurt me. We just need to figure something out about that Mark so it doesn’t get worse.”

“You’re right,” he conceded, “but I need to kill Abaddon first. Then we can figure out how to get it off me.”

*****

After finishing and repainting Baby, Dean spent all his free time pulling book after book from the library shelves, looking for anything that could lead him to Abaddon. He rarely ate, and judging by the dark circles that appeared under his eyes, both Sam and Jessica surmised that he wasn’t sleeping very much either. He was in full research mode, which also raised the alarm to his companions. Dean was never one to enjoy the boring part of hunting, he was much more into the action of it all, but that wasn’t deterring him now. His tired eyes scanned through page after page, text after text to find what he was looking for.

Jessica did her best to take care of him, pick up the slack so to speak, as she was sure he would have completely neglected himself to the point of making himself sick if she didn’t check in every once in a while. But Dean was moody and had snapped several times at his brother, so mostly Jessica and Sam steered clear, letting Dean do his thing while they too did some research of their own on the Mark of Cain. When the two of them took a break for a meal or just to clear their heads, Jess would try her best to get Dean to join them, but he would always just grab a plate, or a beer, and head right back into the library to continue reading. By the second night, he was only eating small bites of his dinner and then letting it sit and get cold on the table next to him.

It was rounding the nine o’clock hour on day two when Jessica walked into the library to check on him one last time before retiring to her room for the night. “Did you find anything?” she asked as she sat down across from him at the table.

Dean kept his eyes down on the page in front of him and mumbled a deep-throated “No.” He stood up abruptly and walked to the shelf behind him, scanning the titles on the spines until he found another tome with a scary looking beast printed on the non-descript cover, and then sat back down, flipping through the new book’s pages without saying a word. 

The silence was getting uncomfortable, but Jessica held back from interrupting him and just stared at him, disquieted by his intensity.

Finally, Dean broke the quiet himself, still without looking up from his research, “Aren’t you going to bed?”

“I mean, it’s a little early for that,” Jess responded, “I thought maybe you and I could hang out a little, watch another horrible horror movie?”

“No thanks,” he replied, turning a page.

“Dean, you’ve been at this for a while, you need a break. Let’s just relax, make some popcorn, zone out with some entertainment for a little bit…”

“I said I’m good,” he cut her off.

Jessica frowned. She knew she shouldn’t take it personally, he was being snippy with his brother too, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t sting for a second. “Alright, I’m gonna head to my room then. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She stood up and walked away crestfallen.

Watching her out of the corner of his eye, Dean silently chastised himself for being so harsh with her. He knew he had been rather cranky with everyone the past few days, but he just wanted to focus on the task at hand. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Clearly, the Mark of Cain was affecting him in ways he didn’t like, but he needed it to kill Abaddon, so it was a necessary evil until he could get the deed done. But he wanted it done quickly, because lately he was having impulses that were starting to scare him. Twice now he had the urge to have his way with Jessica, not that he had never had that urge before, but now with the Mark it felt more insidious. He didn’t just want to lay with her, he wanted to hold her down, to ravage her. There was a rage behind it, and as much as he kept telling himself he would never hurt her, he was starting to think he might not be able to hold it at bay, and he would never forgive himself if he let it take over like that. He had to find Abaddon quick and eliminate her, then he could focus on getting the Mark removed so that he wouldn’t feel this way anymore.

Once Jessica was out of the room, Dean grabbed his jacket and headed up the metal staircase to the bunker’s exit. Maybe he did need some fresh air. Besides, the liquor store would be closing in an hour, and he needed some more Hunter’s Helper to get him through the night.

In the morning, Sam wandered into the library to check on his brother. He had caught a case and figured maybe it would do the trick to get Dean out of his funk and back to the job. “Hey!” he announced himself as he stepped up into the library. Dean responded to him perfunctorily, as he flipped through another book. He was still wearing the same clothes he had on the day before. “Catch any shuteye last night?” Sam quizzed, trying to keep his tone light to avoid catching Dean’s cantankerous temper.

“Nope,” Dean responded, with a bit of annoyance tainting his voice. He continued reading the book in front of him, trying to ignore his brother.

“Guess I’m driving then,” Sam continued.

This stirred Dean’s attention, and he looked up at his brother mildly piqued. “Driving where?”

“Caught wind of a case online…first grade teacher came home and killed her husband,” he presented the printed article to his brother.

Dean leaned over to glance at the headline, but he had had more pressing concerns at the moment. “Well, maybe she snapped,” he shrugged it off, dismissively and went back to his book, “Ankle biters can do that to you.”

“Dude, she pounded him into ground chuck,” Sam elaborated.

“So what are you thinking?” Dean asked, but he still seemed disinterested.

“Best guess, possession.”

Dean took a deep breath and looked over at Sam briefly before turning his back and heading for the accordion file folder on the next table. “Why don’t you go?” He said, brushing his brother off again.

Sam tried to reason with him, “Dean, look, I wanna find Abaddon too, but we’ve been combing through this stuff for days…”

“Maybe we missed something.”

With a huff, Sam continued, “And maybe there are better ways to spend our time than to spin our wheels…”

“Maybe we don’t have time!” Dean snapped back at him angrily.

Sam wasn’t having it anymore. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Dean mumbled going back to the files.

“Yeah,” Sam challenged, “see…because ever since you killed Magnus you’ve been acting…sort of …obsessed.”

Dean turned to look at him incredulously. “Well,” he said in a soft, but irritated tone, “maybe because I want an end to all this.” With a heavy sigh, Sam was about to try and reason with his brother again, but Dean didn’t give him a chance. “Maybe because if we find Abaddon, and Crowley ponies up The First Blade, then we kill her and him both! So what you call obsessed, I call doing my job.” He walked past his brother and sat back down at the table, doing his level best to ignore him again.

Sam was taken aback. On the one hand he understood where his brother was coming from, but on the other hand, the way he was consuming himself with the Mark and Abaddon was only adding to Dean’s slow decent into whatever fresh Hell seemed to be waiting for them. “Okay, um…I get it, Dean. I’m just checking in,” he said with concern.

“I’m fine,” Dean brushed Sam off once again, focusing on the research and trying his best to avoid eye contact.

“Alright,” Sam conceded, “hit me up if you find anything.” He walked past his brother and grabbed the article off the table to put back in his bag before leaving his brother behind and hitting the road.

Dean side-eyed Sam until he was halfway up the stairs and then pulled out a fresh bottle of whiskey from the inside pocket of his jacket, which was draped on the chair next to him, and checked to make sure his brother wasn’t watching as he spun the cap off indignantly and took a long, satiating slug straight from the bottle. The burn of the liquor was the only thing keeping him from going off the rails at the moment.

Around lunchtime, Jessica popped in to check on Dean, but he was still obsessively flipping through the same five books as before. The only difference was that now, the table was also strewn with crumpled up notes and pages torn out of books, even if they only mentioned the Knights of Hell. A film reel sat atop a stack of opened volumes with the tape pulled out of it in long curling ribbons, as if he got frustrated and ripped it out. Even more concerning was the empty bottle of whiskey that was sitting in front of him. Just because she had kept her distance didn’t mean Jessica hadn’t been secretly checking up on him the past few days, and this was the second bottle that she knew of that he had emptied himself.

“I’m about to whip up some lunch,” she announced herself as she sauntered up the library stairs, “any requests?”

Dean looked up at her briefly, “I’m good, thanks.”

Jessica let out an annoyed sigh, “No, you’re not, Dean! You’re a mess, and you’re going to eat something if I have to force it down your throat!”

He rolled his eyes and looked up at her slightly irked at her tone, “Fine. I’m good with like, a sandwich or something. Don’t go all out.” Dean went back to his reading.

Okay, so that was a marginal win. At least he agreed to eat. “Fine. Easy enough. And I’m bringing you a glass of water to go with it. You can’t stay hydrated drinking booze all day and all night.”

Dean didn’t respond, he just kept his head down. He knew she was right, but he would never admit it. Just as she walked away his phone rang. He picked it up reluctantly and saw Sam’s name flash across the screen. Dean was getting tired of the two of them checking up on him. Couldn’t they just leave him alone? He contemplated not answering, but Sammy was on a hunt so he didn’t want to take a chance if he needed help. With speaker phone turned on, Dean finally answered. Sam seemed fine and the case he was on didn’t seem like it was much of a case, so he quickly found a way to end the conversation and hung up. He had more important things to do.

But he started feeling a little overwhelmed by the lack of information that he had gathered, and as he stared at the empty bottle of whiskey in front of him, he found himself zoning out. He could hear echoes of Cain in his head as he replayed the memories of the Mark from the moment he was gifted it to the moment he sliced Magnus’s head off with it. He could feel the exhilaration of the surge of power the blade had given him, the way it seemed to flow through his veins as if it was the very lifeforce that was keeping him alive. It was like the most intoxicating drug, and he wanted it. He wanted to hold that blade again. He wanted to kill with it. 

Shaking himself out of his trance, Dean realized that he had been gripping onto the table so hard that his hand had begun to visible shake. He took a deep calming breath as he examined it, and realized what he truly needed. He needed the blade. Without thought, Dean found himself dialing Crowley, but when he realized what he was really doing, he hung up abruptly before the King of Hell could answer. Jessica and Sam were right, he was literally going off the rails. It was time for a break. He could come back to this later. Besides, he was out of booze, and he was sure he would need it to get through another night of Abaddon detail. Dean grabbed his jacket and headed to the kitchen to tell Jess to cancel his lunch order; that he was going out instead. She should be happy at least that he was getting out of the bunker to get some fresh air.

Jessica was putting the finishing touches on the plate she was making for Dean when he walked in. Her back was turned to him and he watched her silently for a moment before walking up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Dean held tight as she jumped a little. She turned in his grasp.

“Dean, you scared me. What are you doing?” she puzzled as she looked up into his green eyes. Before she could blink, his lips were on hers. His hands slid down to cup her ass and she was hoisted up onto the prep table, her legs naturally parted from the force and position he held, and Dean pushed himself closer to her. Her breathing was heavy, surprised by his actions. Dean kissed her fervently, urgently, and when he felt her hesitate, he kissed her even harder. 

“Dean,” she managed to pull away with a whisper, “wait.”

Dean looked down at her, a raw intensity in his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”

Jessica looked back at him, breathless for a few seconds and then wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him back in and kissing him passionately. 

His grip tightened and he pressed himself up against her sex, his arousal quite unmistakable. Dean trailed kisses down her neck, stopping every once and awhile to nip and lick at her tender skin, while his hands made quick work undoing the button and zipper on her jeans. In one rapid movement of his hands, her jeans and panties were around her ankles, and he briefly removed his lips from her as he pulled them off her feet and tossed them behind him on the kitchen floor. In the next moment her shirt was over her head and she was laid out in front of him almost naked, only her bra covering the rest of her. Dean didn’t bother taking that off, and to be honest the sight of her breasts pushed up between the silky black fabric was making him even more anxious to be inside her.

Dean unbuckled his belt, sliding it out from the loops in his jeans, and then his mouth was on her again. He felt her hand tangle into the back of his hair and gently tug there, which made Dean groan. The sound of his zipper disengaging seemed to echo through the kitchen, and then without warning he pushed into her. He hadn’t even bothered taking off his boxer briefs, instead slipping himself through the fly, the fabric rubbing up against her skin. He smirked with satisfaction as she let out a loud gasp when he bottomed out inside her. 

From that moment on the only sounds in the room were Jessica’s panting and Dean’s gruff grunting. He coaxed her legs around his waist and set his pace at a sprint, thrusting into her with desperation. He needed this, and she felt amazing, warm and wet around him. It wasn’t long before Jessica’s panting turned to deep throated groaning, and then full on squeals, as Dean continued pounding into her. “Dean…” she moaned in his ear. The sounds she was making were only egging him on, and they elicited his own animalistic growls. “Dean…” He felt her tighten around him, and with a few more pumps he emptied himself into her, his hips convulsing erratically as he came.

“DEAN!”

Blinking his eyes a few times he found himself staring at her from the doorway. She had turned around to see him standing there, a look of concern on her face. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, taking a few steps towards him. “What just happened there?”

Dean shook off the fantasy that had taken hold of him. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. That was the most vivid, realistic daydream he had ever had, if that was even what that was. He had felt her in his arms, felt the wetness between her legs, felt the sweat that formed on their bodies. Embarrassed, he tried to play it off. “Um…I just zoned out. I’m gonna get some fresh air.” With that he turned to leave. He couldn’t get out of there quick enough.

Confused, Jessica called after him, “Where are you going?”

“Out,” was all he said as he disappeared into the hallway.

Jess leaned up against the edge of the cold, metal prep table dumbfounded by Dean’s behavior. What had just happened? If she didn’t know any better she would have thought he was possessed. His behavior had become more than a little unsettling lately. Sam was right, they needed to find a solution to this Mark of Cain problem and fast. She wanted the old Dean back, her Dean, the one who smiled and laughed and had fun. The Mark was making him irritable and to be frank, sometimes downright scary. 

She looked over at the perfect plate of food that she had made for his lunch and her shoulders dropped in disappointment; so much for getting some nutrition into him. Wrapping the plate in plastic wrap she put it in the fridge for later, unsure of whether it would get eaten or not.


	22. "The Calm Before The Storm"

After dumping the detergent into the washing machine, Jessica sorted through Sam and Dean’s clothes to separate the lights from the darks, tossing the lighter clothing into the machine and the darks into a pile for the next load. She lifted Dean’s tan denim jacket up to examine it. Blood had splattered all over the front of the fabric, up onto the shoulders, down the arms, and the edge of the right cuff looked like it had been purposefully dyed crimson. Thankfully it wasn’t Dean’s blood, it was Abaddon’s, but it still sent a chill down Jessica’s spine. Grabbing some hydrogen peroxide and a small soft bristled brush, she went to work trying to gently scrub the dried stains from the jacket and thought about the events of the past few weeks.

Dean had been doing a good job of trying to hide how much he was starting to be effected by the Mark, but there were still small moments when she and Sam would eye each other across the room with concern at his behavior. The biggest thing was his appetite. Dean just never seemed to be hungry anymore, but he sure could empty a bottle of whiskey or two or three on the regular. He would keep to himself at night, bringing the books from the library into his room and shutting the door, as if she and his brother wouldn’t notice if he hid it from them. But the scariest part was his over eagerness to hunt. He had been running Sam ragged with cases, insisting that they hit the road almost as soon as they got back from the previous one. Sam had relayed his concerns to Jessica when they would come home, in private of course, and some of the stories he would tell her about the glee his brother seemed to be taking in killing the monsters was downright chilling. Still, it was easy to let it slide whenever he was around, because he would suddenly revert to his goofy self around her. They would sit for hours together and listen to his vinyl while he cleaned his guns and she painted her nails, and they had been having movie nights at least three times a week, getting into heated discussions about stupid things like who would win in a fight, zombies or vampires. Of course they were talking about the fake kind, because the real kind would be no contest. There were even a few nights when the two of them would fall asleep cuddled up together, but Dean would always be gone in the morning. He made sure that she understood that it was strictly platonic cuddling.

Then she got a phone call when the brothers had been out helping Cas with some angel issues. Dean was real quiet on the phone, and he didn’t say much, but it was almost like he was trying to say goodbye, and Jessica would never forget the way it made her feel. She had been reading up on angel lore in the library when her phone buzzed next to her. Not able to stop the smile from crossing her face, she pressed the talk button under Dean’s name on the screen and said hello.

“Hey!” he had said, and then just stopped talking for a moment.

“Hey?” she said back, trying to coax the rest of the words out of him.

Dean continued, “We found Abaddon.”

“You did? Where? Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, nothing’s gone down yet, but I just wanted to…check in, before…” 

He was being cryptic, and it had made her uneasy. “Dean, are you sure about this? I mean, you and Sam are being safe about it, right?”

Dean breathed out heavily on the other end of the line. “I sent Sammy away. I can’t have him in there with me when I kill her. Something could go wrong, and I can’t afford to screw this up.” 

“What do you mean sent Sam away? Dean, you should have back up going in there!”

“Crowley will be there. He’s the one who found her,” he continued, “Besides, even if I win, even if I kill the bitch, I may not come back the same. I just want you know…” The line got dead quiet.

Jessica waited for him to finish his sentence but he never did. “Dean, please don’t do something stupid!” she pleaded with him.

“I gotta go sweetheart,” he said and hung up the phone.

Thankfully, he did come back, seemingly in one piece, but the way Sam had described the image of him brutally bludgeoning Abaddon with the blade long after she was already dead put Jessica more on edge than ever, and Dean had been twitchy since they returned. She tried to focus on the task at hand, scrubbing the bloodstains from his jacket, but she couldn’t help but worry about him. Even with Abaddon gone, Dean was still obsessed only this time his bounty was on Metatron. Unfortunately, or in this case maybe it was fortunate, there weren’t many leads to go on. Wherever Metatron was, it was deep off the reservation. Jessica was hoping that this meant Dean would relax a little bit, but so far he remained twitchy, except when the two of them hung out. That was the only time she had really seen him relax and let go, which was why she had gotten up early to get the chores out of the way so she could focus on getting Dean to relax.

Jessica and the boys had a pleasant breakfast later that morning, and when Dean was about to head back off to hide in his room, she piped up, offering an alternative to their normally super intense, super focused routine. “It’s supposed to be a nice day out today. Why don’t we all do something fun for a change?”

Dean stopped short on his path out the door and turned around to look at her. Even Sam eyed her strangely, as if the word “fun” was a foreign concept. 

“Fun? Like what?” Dean asked.

She hadn’t really thought it through. Jessica shrugged, “I dunno, maybe we can all go for a ride or to a museum or something, just to get out of the bunker for a little while.”

“A museum?” Dean looked skeptical.

“Or…let’s go bowling!” Jessica tried to recover. Sam may have been keen on a museum, but that was definitely the wrong suggestion to peak Dean’s interest.

Sam chuffed, “Geez we haven’t been bowling in years.”

A memory floated through Dean’s mind and made him smile briefly, “Yeah, I think you were what ten? You bowled like an old lady.”

Sam bitchfaced.

“So let’s go then!” Jessica enthused, “It’ll be fun! We’re always so bogged down with doom and gloom all the time. We deserve a break!”

Dean crooked the corner of his mouth up at her sudden zeal for bowling, but there were more important things to do. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you and Sam go. I’m gonna stay here and focus on finding Metatron, but you two go have fun!” With that he turned and left the room.

Sam turned to Jessica as her shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Do you really want to get out of here for a while? I’ll go with you if you want.”

It was nice of him to offer, but that wasn’t exactly why she had suggested it. “Thanks, Sam,” she said, beginning to clear the table, “but I’m not really concerned with my fun right now. I was trying to get Dean out of his funk.”

“Yeah, I know. The only time he seems remotely happy is when he’s killing something.” Sam seemed to drift off in thought and absentmindedly said, “We need to do something about that mark.”

“I just don’t want him to be holed up in his room all day pouring through books and news articles obsessing over Metatron,” Jessica continued as she began washing the plates, “It puts me on edge to see him so restless. He’s so wound up all the time that it feels like he’s going to snap, and with that thing on his arm it’s definitely not going to be puppies and sunshine when he does.”

Sam suddenly appeared by her side with a dish towel, grabbing the plates from her as she finished washing them to dry. “You know how Dean is when he gets this way. I don’t think there’s anything we can do to distract him.”

“Yeah, short of me walking around the bunker naked,” Jess mumbled, “but that probably wouldn’t work either.”

Sam blushed slightly. “That _would_ probably get his attention, but just give me heads up if you go with that tactic so I can avoid the awkwardness.”

Jessica smiled. “You’re such a prude, Sam!” She finished up the last plate and handed it over. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want to see me naked?”

The redness in Sam’s cheeks began to bloom and creep down his neck. “I…uh…”

“I’m teasing you,” Jessica laughed at him, grabbing the towel out of his hands and playfully snapping it at him before folding it in half and threading it through the oven handle to dry. “Besides, Dean has made it perfectly clear he doesn’t see me that way. I doubt that would even rouse his interest.”

Sam shook his head at her. Part of him didn’t want to continue this very uncomfortable conversation, but he didn’t like when she put herself down. “When are you going to stop lying to yourself about that? I know my brother, and yeah he’s not one-hundred percent himself right now, but there is no doubt that he absolutely thinks of you that way.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “He absolutely doesn’t, Sam.”

“I swear you two can be so frustrating sometimes.”

“Look, Sam, I’ve told him how I feel about him, and he shut me down. I can’t keep hoping that he’s going to change his mind. It’s too painful. So, I have to just assume that he isn’t ever going to be interested and move on.”

“Who’s not gonna be interested in what?” Dean suddenly interrupted as he entered the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

This was Sam’s moment to make a point. “Oh, Jessica was just saying she was going to get naked and walk around the bunker today.”

It was her turn to blush profusely.

Dean turned around and eyed her, a mixed look of shock and hope colored his face.

“I’m uh…gonna…yeah,” Sam made a hasty exit. _Let them deal with that_ , he thought smiling to himself.

“He’s just kidding,” she laughed with embarrassment as Dean continued to stare.

Dean cleared his throat. “That’s too bad,” said under his breath before taking a sip from his mug.

Did he just say…”What?” Jessica asked in astonishment.

“What?” Dean said back, clearly trying to sidestep her question.

They both gazed at each other suspiciously for a moment before Jessica let her embarrassment and uncertainty get the better of her and she too made a hasty retreat from the room, leaving Dean there, smiling at her bashfulness.

The rest of the day the three of them spent isolated to their separate corners. They didn’t even eat dinner together as usual, but later as Jessica was reading in her room, Dean knocked on her door. He peeked his head in to see what she was doing. “I was just trying to finish this book up,” she responded, but folded down the corner of the page she was on and shut the book, giving Dean her full attention.

“I was gonna head down to Donnie’s for a drink. You wanna come?” Dean offered.

Jessica looked at him confused, “Where?”

“Donnie’s Bar, downtown. C’mon, you said you wanted to get out of here earlier. Let’s go have a drink and play some pool. I never finished teaching you how play.”

She looked down at herself, dressed in stretch pants and a worn out tee-shirt. “I’m not exactly dressed for going out.”

“So get dressed, c’mon! I’ll meet you in the garage in ten,” Dean winked at her and left.

“Okaaaay,” Jessica said aloud to herself. It was starting to get hard keeping up with Dean’s mood swings, but at least he seemed to be in a good one at the moment. She didn’t know much about this bar Dean was talking about, but she assumed it must be a dive if it was in downtown Lebanon. There wasn’t much going on in that town. Deciding just to go casual, Jessica threw on some jeans and an old Guns N’ Roses tee-shirt she bought a few weeks ago at the vintage consignment shop, and checked herself out in the mirror over the sink in the corner. She was looking a little plain, so she opened her drawer and pulled out a small makeup bag, sweeping on a bit of blush before lining her eyes with black kohl liner. Finishing off with a quick swipe of gloss, she pressed her lips together and checked herself again to see if she was more presentable. It was good enough for a dive bar anyway, so she grabbed her ID, or well one of the ones the boys had made for her, and shoved it in her back pocket with a couple of twenties she had stashed in her top drawer before making her way to the garage.

Dean was waiting there for her leaned up against the car. “What took you so long?”

“You said ten minutes, it’s been six!” she argued, “I had to fix myself up a little.”

He looked down at her as she approached. “You look good,” he conceded, “You looked fine before, too. We’re just going to Donnie’s, it’s not like it’s the Savoy.”

“Well it’s not like I get a chance to go out very often, so I thought I should dress up a bit!” Jessica explained.

“You call a Guns N’ Roses tee shirt dressed up,” Dean’s eyebrows raised.

Jess smiled and bantered back playfully, mimicking Dean’s sentiments from before, “It’s just Donnie’s! It’s not the Savoy!”

Dean smiled back at her, “Touché! C’mon, get it.” He opened Baby’s passenger door for her and she climbed inside. Making his way around to the driver’s side door, he pulled his keys out of his front pocket and climbed in next to her and behind the wheel. Baby roared to life, echoing through the garage, before they pulled out of the long underground drive to emerge along the side street next to the bunker’s secret entrance. 

“Sam’s not coming?” Jessica asked, suddenly realizing it was just the two of them.

“Nah! I asked, but he’d rather stay home and _not_ have fun,” Dean shook his head in disapproval. “Good thing I got a friend like you that I can count on.” He winked at her again before turning his eyes back to the road ahead.

“You’re in an unusually good mood tonight,” she marveled.

“Well I thought about what you said earlier and you were right! We haven’t had much fun lately. So, I figured, let’s do something about that!”

“It’s just that you’ve been so…preoccupied lately with hunting and killing Abaddon and looking for Metatron, I was beginning to worry you forgot what it was to have fun and relax.”

Dean’s face soured a bit at the mention of Metatron, and Jessica thought for a moment that she just screwed up the whole evening, but he seemingly shrugged it off and a smile slowly crept back onto his face. “Well, we’re about to change that,” he said.

They pulled into a dark alley between two buildings, not far from the bar’s entrance. Jessica was right, it was a dive, but it wasn’t too poorly lit and wasn’t even really that crowded, so it wasn’t like she felt uncomfortable or anything. Besides, Dean was with her, so she knew if anything crazy happened he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She probably would have preferred the Savoy though. Jessica followed Dean, who was clearly comfortable with his surroundings, as he walked straight to the bar. A young gentleman nodded to him and said hello.

“Hey Donnie!” Dean greeted him, “Let me get a beer and um, what do you want?” He turned to look at Jessica, waiting for an answer.

“Rum and coke,” she replied as Donnie, nodded again and headed to the other end of the bar to grab the bottle, “Oh and couple of cherries please?”

Dean smiled at her and pulled out one of the bar stools for her to sit. Once she was planted, he took a seat next to her. “Rum and coke, huh? That’s a pretty solid drink. I thought you would order like a Bay Breeze or something.”

“Ha ha,” she said, “I happen to like a Bay Breeze, but tonight I thought I’d keep it simple.”

Dean chuckled, “You’re such a girl drink drunk.”

“Well I am a girl,” Jessica stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

Donnie came back and placed a coaster in front of her before setting her drink down and then handed Dean a bottle of El Sol.

“Gracias,” Dean acknowledged.

“So who’s the pretty little lady that got mixed up with the likes of you tonight?” Donnie ribbed. Clearly Dean was more of a regular here than Jessica knew. When was he sneaking out of the bunker to go to the bar?

“Ah, she’s my roommate,” Dean responded, “thought I’d get her out of the house tonight.”

“Um hmm,” Donnie replied, “Well it’s nice to meet you…?”

“Jessica,” she said, and shook his hand.

“…Jessica. You keep an eye on this one. He’s trouble,” the bartender joked, before walking away to tend to another patron.

She looked over at Dean, “So you have a friend, huh? That’s sweet.”

“Shuddup!” he mocked offence, “Donnie’s a good guy. C’mon, grab your _respectable_ drink and let’s go shoot some pool.” Dean stood up and chuckled as Jessica practically had to hop down from the high stool. 

“Alright, but remember how bad I was last time?” Jessica warned.

Dean smiled, “Ah, you weren’t that bad. Besides, I told you I’d teach you. You’ll be hustling pool with us in no time.”

Jessica took a swig of her Rum and Coke, before setting it down on the edge of the pool table. Dean handed her a stick and chalked up his own before grabbing the rack from the peg on the nearby wall. He racked them up and let Jess make the first break, but not without giving her some pointers. “Keep it steady, don’t try to hit it head on, but just here to the side,” Dean pointed to the left of the rack. She lined up her shot, and struck. It wasn’t the best break she’d ever seen, but it wasn’t the worst. Still, Dean annihilated her that game. He wasn’t going to stop though, and he was racking up the balls again for round two.

“Okay, so let’s teach you this time,” Dean walked over to where she was standing and sidled up behind her. “Bend over the table,” he commanded in her ear.

Jessica felt warm as her cheeks flushed bright red. It was an oddly arousing request. Although Dean couldn’t see the expression on her face, she did her damnedest to try and keep it neutral. She leaned forward and lined up her shot as Dean’s body conformed to hers. They had done this before, and she knew it was just so he could teach her how to play, but it still sent a little thrill up her spine having him pressed so close up against her. She felt his warm hand wrap around hers and he eased the cue into a slightly better position. 

“See how that looks? That’s where you want it.” He breathed in her ear.

Jessica closed her eyes and took a breath before pulling back on the cue and taking her shot. This time the rack exploded perfectly, sending two balls into the pockets.

Dean backed away from her with a whoop, “See, I knew you’d be good at this!”

Jessica turned to look at him and smiled. He was clearly having fun driving her crazy. “Let’s just play the game, okay? I don’t need to be a pool shark, I just want to have fun tonight.”

“You got it, kiddo!” Dean winked at her, knowing full well she hated when he called her that.

They played another round, and although she did a little better with Dean giving her tips every now and again, she still lost. She was glad that he wasn’t letting her win though, she was never going to get better if he did that. Jessica finished the last of her Rum and Coke and and fished the cherries out of the bottom of the glass, plucking the fruit off the stem with her teeth. She held her hand out to Dean, “Give me some of that change you got earlier.” 

“What? Why?” Dean asked, acting as if she was asking him to give her a million bucks!

“I want to put some _good_ music on the jukebox, and while I’m doing that, go get me another drink please?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Fine, here,” he said as he handed her a bunch of quarters, “don’t put any of that new crap on. Keep it classic will ya?”

Jessica rolled her eyes, but conceded and tried to hand him a twenty from her back pocket, “Next round’s on me!”

He slapped her hand away, “Put your money away, I got it.”

“Such a gentleman,” she sassed, as she rubbed her hand.

As skeptical as she was when Dean first suggested they go out, they really were having fun. It was nice to see him like this again, as it was beginning to be a rarity these days. He returned with their second round of drinks. It didn’t escape Jessica’s notice that after only one beer he had already switched to the hard stuff, most likely whiskey by the smell of it. But she knew it was going to take more than a couple of drinks to really affect him, so she wasn’t going to say anything. After another round of pool, and a third round of drinks, the two of them settled down at a table in the corner of the room. Dean popped a few more quarters into the jukebox and played some Zeppelin tunes, and the two of them just sat there and talked for a while. Dean was regaling her with stories of the Winchester brothers’ childhoods, reminiscing about the good times and telling her embarrassing stories about Sammy while avoiding his own. Jessica had already felt like she knew them pretty well, but afterwards she really felt like she was home here with them, through the good and the bad. She wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

“I’m gonna use the restroom,” Dean announced as he downed the last swig of his whiskey, “Finish that drink of yours up, lightweight, and grab us another round while I’m in there will ya?” He tossed down some bills for her to use to pay for them.

Jessica nodded, and headed over to the bar to grab their drinks. The bar had gotten a little more crowded as the night went on, so it took a minute for Donnie to get to her, but he gave her two more rounds for the price of one to make up for it. Apparently, Dean _had_ made a friend there. Luckily, in her old life, she had waited tables a time or two and was able to juggle the four glasses in her small hands without spilling as she walked back to the high top table they had been occupying. She hoisted herself back up into the stool and swirled the cherry around in her new drink before taking a sip. Suddenly she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, but when she turned expecting to see Dean she was surprised to see another man standing next to her.

He was young, maybe just a bit older than her, twenty-five at the most, and he was relatively attractive. He smiled at her and spoke, “Hey! I’m Cameron.”

Jessica smiled at him politely, “Jessica.” She didn’t really offer anymore, realizing he was probably about to hit on her or something. She didn’t want him to think she was interested. 

“That guy you’re with…is he a boyfriend?” Cameron asked.

She didn’t have to answer because Dean’s deep gravel answered for her. “No. I’m _the_ boyfriend, and I don’t really like what you were implying there, so why don’t you head off before we have a problem here.”

Shock painted Jessica’s face. What did he just say? Did he just call himself her boyfriend?

“Hey man, I didn’t know,” Cameron apologized, although it didn’t really seem sincere. “I just noticed you two weren’t exactly cozy so I thought maybe she was available.”

Dean wasn’t amused. “Well she’s not.”

Cameron was either smart or not drunk enough to push it and backed off, leaving space for Dean to sit back down at the table and take a swill of his whiskey.

Jessica looked at him uncertainly, “What was up with the cock block there, Dean?”

He eyed her in disbelief. “That guy?” he asked, dubiously.

“What? No!” Jess shook her head, “I just thought it was weird you got all ‘boyfriendy’ for a minute there.” She purposely used the word to try and coax out an explanation of why he specifically used that term.

Dean knocked back the rest of his drink. “I just didn’t like the looks of him. I figured that was the quickest way to get rid of him.”

“He looked pretty harmless to me, Dean,” she smiled skeptically.

Starting in on his fifth drink, Dean eyed her up for a moment, before relaxing back in the chair. “Well, hey, go get him if you want. Sorry I cock blocked you.” He took another gulp of his whiskey.

“Dean, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jess began tripping over her words. “You know what, nevermind, let’s just drop it and go back to our conversation. Anymore stories about Sam that I can tease him about later?” Jessica smiled at him trying to lighten the mood again, but Dean still just stared at her intensely. It was just beginning to make her feel self-conscious when he finally crooked his lips up in a smile again.

He finished his drink in one big gulp and stood up, holding out his hand. “Dance with me.” 

It was a simple request, but Jessica was rendered motionless by it. 

“C’mon,” he implored, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of her seat.

Jessica stood in front of him, and looked up at him in disbelief again. What was with him tonight? “You want to dance? You?”

“Are you saying you won’t dance with me?” He looked slightly hurt by the prospect.

“No, of course I’ll dance with you,” she quickly amended, “it’s just this isn’t exactly a song that we can…” Her argument trailed off as the jukebox shifted to the next song and Guns N’ Roses’ “November Rain” began to play.

Dean smiled at her smugly. “I may have sunk a couple extra quarters in the jukebox while you were getting our drinks.”

“Did you plan this?” Jessica was still in disbelief.

“I know how to take a girl out for the night!” 

The sweet talk dripped from his lips and warmed her heart. This was the Dean she knew. This was why she loved him so much. 

He grasped her right hand in his and placed his other around her waist and began to sway to the music. “I picked this song in homage to your fashion sense,” he quirked.

All Jessica could do was just stare back up at him in awe. He was being so sweet, it was everything she ever wanted from him, but it made her a little sad too, because she knew that it was probably temporary. It wasn’t going to mean he changed his mind. He was just being a gentleman, taking her out for the night because he knew that things had been super tense around the bunker lately. He was just trying to be a good friend.

Dean’s smile faltered for a minute, and he looked down at her with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Jessica finally let her smile break through her thoughts, “this is nice.”

He took a deep breath, relieved he hadn’t done something wrong, and closed his eyes as she rested her head against his chest, swaying with him to the music.

“When I look into your eyes,

I can see a love restrained.

But darlin’ when I hold you,

Don’t you know I feel the same?”

The two of them stayed like that, just enveloped in each other’s warmth. They had been cuddling up a lot lately, and Jessica wasn’t exactly sure why, but she couldn’t deny that it felt really good to be close to him. This was what she had always wanted, what she had been craving, and it didn’t particularly matter if it wasn’t real or romantic. This was Dean’s way of saying he cared for her. She understood that now. He may not ever let himself cross all the way into a relationship, but it wasn’t that he didn’t love her. Sam was right, Dean really did want to be with her, and somehow, Jessica finally knew that it was going to be okay if they never realized a full romantic partnership. It wouldn’t matter what form it took, as long as they were best friends, she still had his heart. 

“Cause nothin’ lasts forever,

and we both know hearts can change.

And it’s hard to hold a candle,

in the cold November rain.”

Dean marveled at how good she felt in his arms. He knew that he probably shouldn’t be doing this right now; he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression or lead her on in any way. But he also knew that his life, their lives, had taken an emotional toll on her lately, and he just wanted to let her know how much he deeply cared for her. He couldn’t tell her that he loved her, although he did. That was a confession he had to keep to himself, for her own good. But right then, at that moment, he let himself hold her just a little tighter. He knew the road ahead of them was going to be broken and bloody, but in this moment he could show her some of the affection he had for her, to soften any blow that would certainly follow.

“We’ve been through this such a long, long time,

just tryin’ to kill the pain.

But lovers always come and lovers always go

and no one’s really sure who’s lettin’ go today.

Walking away.”

After everything that had happened recently, Sam almost dying, Kevin actually dying, Dean taking on the Mark, Dean leaving and then coming home again, Jessica’s heart had been through the emotional ringer, and it was nice to finally take a breath. Although this moment would certainly be a small one in the grand scheme of things, it nonetheless felt like one of the biggest moments in her life. She had never felt a love like this for anyone before, and she was going to let herself sink into it with everything she had right now. Knowing it was temporary was not going to stop her from burying herself further into his arms. 

“If we could take the time to lay it on the line,

I could rest my head just knowin’ that you were mine,

all mine.

So if you want to love me then darlin’ don’t refrain,

or I’ll just end up walkin’ in the cold November rain.”

Dean broke their perfect dance pose for a second, running his hands gently up and down her arms, which were now dotted with goose bumps as he gazed down into her beautiful blue eyes. “Promise me you won’t read too much into this okay?”

Jessica nodded, “I know, Dean. I’m not.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he mock-chided her. Dean hesitated, searching her eyes for something. He wasn’t quite sure himself what it was, permission maybe? With an anxious breath, he pressed his lips to hers, cradling her head between his hands. She moved her lips against his, and finally Dean threw caution to the wind and gave it all he had, kissing her deeply the way he should have all this time. As their bodies stopped swaying, so too did the world around them, the only thing tethering them to reality was the swelling of the music in the background.

“I know it’s hard to keep an open heart,

when even friends seem out to harm you.

But if you could heal a broken heart,

wouldn’t time be out to charm you?”

Jessica felt Dean’s tongue slide across her bottom lip and she welcomed it by parting hers. He was really kissing her, not like the chaste kisses they had shared before, but passionately. Her heart was overjoyed at the sensation, as she rose up on her toes to push further into it greedily, and her hunger was met by Dean’s own as she suddenly found herself being hoisted up by his strong hands and backed up to her chair once again. Jessica found herself in seated on the stool, and Dean wasn’t letting up his onslaught on her lips. Not that she was complaining, but for a moment she wasn’t sure if he was going to just rip her clothes off right there in the bar, and she wasn’t much of an exhibitionist. 

“Dean,” she breathed out in between kisses, “wait!”

He stopped for a moment, breathing heavily, “What?”

“Are you…I mean…we’re kind of…” she couldn’t get the words out and the way Dean was eying her made her forget all about her shyness and the other people in the bar that might be watching them. “Nevermind,” she finally managed and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair as she kissed him hard again.

Dean responded in kind, fervently kissing, sucking, and nipping at her lips. He felt himself get aroused and he was sure that Jessica felt it too as he pressed himself further into her, tilting the chair back on two legs until she and it were leaned up against the wall behind. Then suddenly, he felt the warmth and tingle of the Mark, buried beneath the layers of clothing he wore, and he realized he wasn’t in control anymore. What was he doing? He couldn’t be doing this, not here, not like this! He just intended to kiss her sweetly, how did it end up escalating so quickly? It was like a vacuum had sucked him backward, plucking his lips off hers as he stumbled on his heels. He watched as Jessica’s flushed face turned from excitement to confusion, to the quiet panic that takes hold when you fall, as her chair nearly fell out from under her. Luckily, he reacted quickly and grabbed ahold of her before she hit the floor.

“You okay?” he asked as he helped maneuver her onto her feet.

“Yeah,” she said confused, “Dean, what just happened? Did I do something wrong?”

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes briefly, angry with himself for letting the Mark take hold of him again. “No, I did, I’m sorry. I lost control for a minute.” He looked at her earnestly, regretful of his actions once again. “You know what? Maybe we should get back to the bunker.” Dean grabbed his jacket off the back of the other stool and then grabbed hers to help her put it on.

“Um…okay,” was all she could say. Dean’s behavior was odd lately, and tonight was the strangest of late. “Are you sure? We can just sit, talk some more?”

“No, I think it’s best if we go,” he responded and then took her by the hand and led her back out to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the time between updates. There is a lot going on right now, and with the holidays coming up, updates may be fewer and far between. I will do my best to get new chapters up in a timely manner. Thanks again for reading!


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